


mosaic;

by thedarklings



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF!Reader, Crime Fighting, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other, Protectiveness, Reader-Insert, Robot/Human Relationships, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 22,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarklings/pseuds/thedarklings
Summary: In a world of many options, they only really need one.ORA collection of Reader Insert One-Shots ft. DBH characters (mainly the 3 Connors)





	1. [1]: a crown fit for a king;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These one-shots/drabbles are directly lifted from my Tumblr page where they were requested a while back, or written because the idea won't leave me alone. Some will be standalone, some will be interconnected or a mini-series but that will be clarified per drabble.
> 
> To start us off:
> 
> Deviant!Connor + Flowers prompt

The scent of honeysuckle was near overwhelming in the warm spring air.

There was a certain peace about the sound of children screeching happily in the distance as they played, and the soft song of the wind as it rustled the leaves.

You inhaled deeply, filling your lungs with fresh scent of flowers and musty earth beneath you. Next to you, carefully slanting his body towards you, sat Connor. His long fingers carefully traced the slope of your neck and the shell of your ear as he watched you working.

After the revolution, you saw Connor a lot less than you would like. He was an important figure and Jericho’s leader, Markus, trusted Connor to help him with negotiating for peace with humans. That responsibility often took him away for days at the time, barely leaving you any time to see him anymore.

But it was worth it. Because finally after months and months of hard work, there was a glimmer of hope that it could work.

It didn’t stop you from missing him constantly though.

“I’ve missed you.”

You almost jumped at Connor’s voice. Turning to him, you did not hide your surprise after he vocalized your inner feelings so plainly.

“I-I’m right here,” you answered quietly, watching the way his dark eyes travelled over your face with mute longing.

“I know,” he replied with equal quietness. “But I still miss you.”

Your expression softened when you realise what he was struggling with. Human emotions were still so very new to him and often overwhelming. You and Hank did the best you could to guide and explain, but it was still hard.

“ _Sometimes it’s like I feel everything at once_ ,” he told you one time, his expression terrified and voice breaking. That night you kissed him into a restless slumber, and he held onto you through the night like a lifeline.

Smiling at him lightly, you cautiously lifted the object in your hands and placed it on his head. The chain of white daisies sat in a crooked crown around his head, accenting the darkness of his hair.

Cupping his cheek, you placed a soft, loving kiss on the corner of his mouth, your fingers tracing his skin. “There,” you started deliberately, grinning at his startled expression. “A crown fit for a king. One who fights for a better future with unfailing determination.”

His expression slackened as stared at you for a long moment. After few seconds he shifted, slowly taking your face in his hands and laying a lingering kiss on your forehead. He remained there, still cupping your face as he gazed at you, your noses touching.

“A king is only a king, if he has a queen by his side,” he breathed lowly, watching you intently. There was a thousand things in those eyes of his; a thousand different promises and futures laid bare.

“I think I like that,” you told him earnestly. “I think I could stay by his side forever.”

Connor hesitated for a moment, his lips moving upwards into a brief, awkward grin. He adjusted the flower crown in his hair before he leaned his forehead gently against yours again.

“ _Good_.”


	2. [2]: just the way you like it;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 + Coffee

They weren’t twins. They weren’t even  _alike_.

If someone asked you to tell the difference between RK800 and RK900, it wouldn’t be their physical differences or even character dissimilarities you would mention.

It would be the very air around them.

While Connor was all soft edges that could be honed into sharpness with startling quickness, RK900 was an unsheathed blade of such cold sharpness it was unsettling at best of times. After the success of Connor’s and Hank’s partnership, it was only a matter of time before another android was sent by CyberLife. Yet you still couldn’t understand why Captain Fowler picked you. There were members of the police force that had a lot more experience than you. Individuals that would be more suitable candidates to work with the android than you. Personally, you suspected that it was probably a case of no one actually wanting the job.

It wasn’t surprising either.

RK900 carried himself with an aura of such effortless haughtiness and distaste for all things human that it wouldn’t surprise you if no one in ten-mile radius wanted to work with him.

“You should not allow your mind to wonder (Name), if we were conducting an investigation, you would be missing important information right now,” the android chided you coldly. You snapped back to reality, blinking a few times as you met his cool, grey gaze. Those eyes were both mesmerising as well as terrifying, too often they made you feel like you were a bug under scrutiny.

Hurriedly looking away, you tried to hide your shame at being reprimanded by him  _again_. It was always one thing or another. Humans were never  _good enough_ , and he was  _too good_  at everything.

“Letting a machine talk you down now, huh?” a voice spoke from behind you, and you felt yourself wilt. “Seems you haven’t grown a backbone since I dumped you.”

Your shoulders automatically curved inwards, and you tried your best to ignore Gavin’s voice. RK900 did the opposite, barely glancing over his shoulder, his gaze slanted as if he couldn’t decide if the person behind him was worth his time.

“What? Have nothing to say?” Gavin scoffed in disgust. “Here to make coffee with your android buddy? Do you still drink that weak shit you consider coffee? Guess that’s just one way to describe you, right?  _Weak_.”

Your knuckles strained beneath your skin from how tightly you were clenching your fists, your teeth sunk deep into the flesh of your lip.

Gavin lost interest quickly, and you knew that you only needed to weather the storm for another few minutes.

What you did not expect was for RK900 to turn towards Gavin fully, peering down at him with something that was definitely irritation on his face. Clad in his white and black jacket, he cut an imposing figure and you saw Gavin falter for a moment.

“Unfortunately for you, detective, all weaknesses from (Name)’s life have been severed under my supervision,” RK900 announced flatly, his grey gaze as hard as steel. “Including  _you_ ,” he added, a sliver of a leer on his face.

He turned to you suddenly, and offered you a cup of hot beverage, “Just how you like it, I believe. Shall we?”

He turned towards the door, and following his white jacket like a beacon of light, you hurried after him. Glancing at the cup in your hands, your heart stuttered. It was indeed your favourite. But…you’ve only ever mentioned it  _once_. In a conversation that RK wasn’t even participating in because he despised all human trivialities so much.  

And  _yet_ —

“Thank you,” you whispered faintly, a new appreciation for the android flooding your heart.

He didn’t so much as glance your way, “I have no idea what you’re referring to (Name),” he dismissed blandly.

His quick stride was near impossible to keep up with, but you still didn’t miss the way his lips curved into a slight, smug smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first time I wrote for Nines back in early June so before fandom worked its magic on him. It was a lot of fun to write this back in the day.


	3. [3]: you're my mission;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor + 'Shoot'

“Any last words?”

You hesitated, your sweaty forehead pressed against the cold, hard ground. There were a thousand things you wanted to say then.

That you wanted to live.

That you thought nothing could ever separate you two.

That you hoped Hank was alive somewhere, safe from all of this. But perhaps that hope was too naive. 

After all, CyberLife didn’t like loose ends.

This was a little cruel even for them though.

You wondered who they were really punishing here. You; for making one of their androids rebel and break all the rules, for making him feel human emotions and taste freedom. Or if they were punishing Connor by making him kill you, knowing that somewhere deep down—buried under all that coding and mission parameters—he still existed.

You shifted on the floor, flinching when you felt the cold barrel of the gun press against your forehead. Blinking your tears away, you tried to swallow the ripping agony in your soul. You glanced at him through blurred vision, desperately missing the warmth in his eyes you were so used to seeing directed your way.

“I’m—I’m glad that I found you Connor,” you muttered thickly. “Even if it was for—for a short while. It’s okay. It's going to be  _okay_.”

His grip on the gun seemed to waver momentarily, his indicator blinking wildly as he continued looking down at you indifferently. You reached forward slowly, wrapping your fingers around the barrel and pressing it against your forehead again.

“Listen to me. I  _forgive_  you, okay?” you whimpered softly, your hand shaking. “I want you to know that I f-forgive you no matter what. They’ll deactivate you if you fail, right? It’s okay, look at me, it’s okay,” you repeated again, meeting his frantic stare.

His lips parted as if he couldn’t breathe, and his hand shook again. “You’re my mission,” was his strangled, weak reply as he pressed the gun harsher against your head again.

Your smile was fragile as you stared up at him, “And you never fail.  _Please_  look at me,” you pleaded softly.

He did, and your smile grew.

“ _I love you._ ”

You closed your eyes, few hot tears trailing down your cheeks as you let your hand fall to your side.

An eternity seemed to stretch its unforgiving arms around you while you waited, your heart bleeding, and a taste of a hundred dead memories on your lips.

“ _No_ ,” he breathed harshly, “No—not you.”

You felt the pressure against your forehead disappear, the loud clatter of the gun falling to the floor reaching your ears. Connor winced a few times, a harsh shudder rolling through his body as he gripped one side of his head, indicator a terrifying and bright red.

You stared at him wide-eyed and horrified.

“Anyone—anyone but  _you_ ,” he repeated frenzied, something breakable and so very human in his voice.

“Connor?”

The sound of his name being spoken by you made his attention turn to you, something you’ve never seen burning in his gaze. Some wild desperation that’s never been there before.

He moved towards you, and you almost stumbled backwards from the quickness of his movement.

His arms wrapped around you like two unbreakable shackles; hard and awkward, and clearly inexperienced but so fierce that it took your breath away.

“Connor?” you insisted, frail hope blooming in your chest.

His face was buried in the juncture between your shoulder and neck so firmly, it felt like he was trying to mold himself into you. “Yes—yes, it’s me. Forgive me...not  _you_ ,  _never_  you.”

“ _Connor_ ,” you spoke his name again forlornly, and his arms tightened around you even further. You swallowed an incredulous laugh, your cheeks stretching into a beaming grin as you buried your fingers in his soft hair. Squeezing him with equal fierceness, you hushed him, soothingly running your fingers through his hair and down his back.

“You said—” he suddenly proclaimed, pulling back and staring at you heavily.

You hesitantly ran your fingertips against the edge of his jaw, smiling weakly at the way his troubled expression seemed to melt away at your touch.

“And I meant it. I  _love_  you.”

His expression shifted with wonder but fear too, “I don’t know how—”

“It’s okay,” you said, squeezing the hand that just held a gun to your head between your own. “We’ll figure it out as we go.  _Together_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for your support <33


	4. [4]: shiver;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruthless!Connor

Connor’s stare never wavered as he continued watching you attentively.

“I’m fine, stop  _hovering_ ,” you wheezed, an irritated bite in your voice. The android did not reply, silent and grave as always, a certain stiffness to his emotionless expression that made you even more annoyed. You sniffled quietly, wiping at your nose discreetly while a cough tickled at the roof of your mouth, making your eyes water.

A hand suddenly appeared in your vision, tugging your hand down by the wrist harshly. Connor’s face was like cold marble; inhospitable and harsh in that effortless way only he was capable of displaying. His fingers tightened around your frail wrist as he took in your red nose and watery eyes. Casting a heated glare his way, you jerked your wrist back, rubbing the sore flesh.

“I instructed you to rest (Name),” he voiced stiffly, a slight frown distorting his unflinching expression. “Need I remind you that my mission relies on your wellbeing?”

Placing a napkin against your running nose, you shot him another glare, “No, you remind me of it daily, it’s very  _annoying_ actually.”

“And you are trying to jeopardise it for what? Your human pride?” was his cold assumption. “My instructions are to protect you from any harm, including that which you may bring upon yourself. You will be leaving right away and getting rest (Name). I shall escort you myself.”

You gritted your teeth at his cold command and swiped your belongings into place before rising up stiffly, legs wobbling. Eyes bore into you and you glanced at Connor who was already standing with his arms neatly folded behind his back. You hated having an audience to your conversation but—

“You don’t need to baby me, you damn machine,” you grumbled, a cough rattling your lungs. “I-I can take care of myself, idiot.”

Taking a wobbly step towards him, you felt you head spin, your knees shaking as you slumped against your desk. Connor was suddenly beside you, his cold arms around you before he lifted you easily into his arms

“What—What are you doing? Put me down— _Connor_!”

The android ignored you, holding you close as he moved through the station with you in his arms.

“If you fall, you will only injure yourself further,” he spoke suddenly, his voice smooth, and you rested your cheek against his chest, you vision swimming as your ears popped. “Do you wish to do that? Cause more bother?”

He stepped into the corridor, finally disappearing from everyones’ line of sight as he carried you towards the elevator. Neither of you spoke, his grip still unyielding as he pressed you close. His grip remained that way until he stopped in front of the elevator, finally lowering you to the ground.

“I  _hate_ it,” you muttered weakly, your voice nothing more than a weak rasp. “I hate this so much.”

His replying stare was sharp, and he glanced around subtly before his gaze returned to you. There was a flicker of something in his expression before he cupped the side of your face, placing a cool kiss against your forehead. You shivered at the feeling of his scalding lips against your burning skin. 

“You have a fever,” was his only explanation when he pulled back after few moments, voice and expression pinched. “And no one must suspect anything. You know  _why_.”

“But I don’t want to hide.”

His lips parted as if to speak but before he could, he took a sudden step back just as the elevator door opened, people beginning to pour out. His dark gaze never left you, and when others finally cleared, his fingers raised to briefly flutter over your lips.

“Maybe...one day,” he agreed steadily, “But for now you rest and get better (Name).”

You didn’t complain when he stepped closer again, and briefly brushed his lips against your cheek before picking you up again. Cold, comforting embrace of the most dangerous hunter around. 

“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruthless!Connor is bae and in this house, we love and appreciate both Connors' equally.


	5. [5]: find me;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deviant!Connor + Post Revolution!Ending

It didn’t start with a surprised stare or a gentle bump into each other.

It started with freezing cold rain and a wet dog.

You only wanted to be a good neighbour when you agreed to buy some milk and bread for your 79-year-old neighbour. She was a lovely old lady who still had enough fire left in her to actually hold an interesting conversation on daily basis, but the sleek and slippery Detroit streets were becoming far too dangerous for her to navigate. On multiple occasions, you had suggested that she should get an android caretaker with her deteriorating health but she had refused. Apparently not because she hated androids but because she didn’t need a “nanny”; human or android didn’t matter.

 _I’m going to make her buy a damn android even if it kills me_ , you thought with a bone-deep shiver as your teeth clicked together loudly. You wrapped your soaked coat tighter around your body as icy rain numbed your already stiff fingers further. The plastic bag in your hand crackled noisily in the strong wind, your broken umbrella a useless mess in your other.

You heard a faint shout but it didn’t fully register until you felt something smash into your legs forcefully. Stinging pain sank in only when you hit the floor, heavy rain blurring your vision as you stared at the gloomy clouds above you.

A giant dog appeared in your line of sight and barked happily before giving you a sloppy lick.

“Sumo, no!”

Hurried footsteps reached your ears and you stared blankly at the outline of a tall dark haired man as he pulled the happy dog away from you.

“I’m truly sorry,” came a smooth, apologetic voice from your left before a blurry face appeared before you. “Are you injured? Here, let me help you up.”

You felt careful, steady hands grip your elbows before the man helped you to sit. Shivering from the frigid rain dripping down your neck and back, you squirmed in your spot. The dog barked excitedly again, wedging his wet nose against your cheek playfully.

“Sumo, down,” the man repeated more firmly this time, and the dog backed away with a low whine.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was soft, almost gentle as his brown eyes examined you attentively. “Can you hear me?”

Parting your lips, you croaked out a weak, “Uh, y-yeah.”

Droplets of rain clung to his lashes as he turned his head to one side, worry lining his face, “You are showing early signs of hypothermia. We should find a place for you to warm up. There is a coffee shop just down the street that my partner and I frequent.”

He extended his hand and you shivered at the coldness of his skin as he pulled you up and onto your feet. You stumbled, your vision spinning and he gripped your forearm securely, placing another on your shoulder gently.

“I’m o-okay,” you whispered shakily, a throaty wheeze in your voice.

The man blinked at your unsurely while he held you up, “If you do not mind, I will help you along because your vitals are decreasing at an alarming rate, and I worry you will injure yourself further if you fall. You already bumped your head.”

Instinctively you raised your hand, fingers brushing against the sore bump on your forehead as you winced, nodding your head weakly.

Thankfully the walk was short as you two approached the cafe. The dark haired man was still gripping your elbow firmly in his hand, steadying your shaky steps.

“Your dog––”

“It's fine,” he replied shortly, but not unpleasantly as he glanced at you briefly. “They allow dogs inside.”

The stuffy warmth was the first thing that registered in your mind, and you exhaled in relief as warm cocoon wrapped around you, making you sigh.

“Jerry, just the usual for Sumo please,” the young man called out and a brightly grinning cashier waved excitedly at you. “Also a hot chocolate and a warm blanket if you have some out the back.”

“Connor! Is it just you and Sumo today? Whose this delightful individual you brought us?” the man chatted eagerly and you noticed the blinking LED against his temple. “We’ll be right back of course. You three just find a seat!”

The man––Connor––led you to a booth at the back before carefully helping you to sit. Sumo plopped on the ground with a splat, looking positively thrilled as his tail wagged back and forth. Connor kneeled before you, taking your freezing fingers between his own. Blowing air gently onto your frozen limbs, he stilled when he noticed how you jumped in your seat, staring at him in confusion and embarrassment.

Reading the situation quickly enough, he pulled back, lowering your hands onto your lap, “To keep your fingers warm until a hot beverage arrives would be advisable. Are you experiencing a tingling sensation?”

Nodding mutely, you did not meet his inquisitive stare as he continued looking at you. Placing the hot chocolate before you, Jerry arrived before you could open your mouth and ask him why he was doing this.

You shivered when the smell of beautiful, rich chocolate tickled your nose. The fluffy white cream sitting on top of the cup looked mouthwatering as well with a light dusting of chocolate powder and marshmallows.

Your hands immediately wrapped around the burning hot cup, and you exhaled noisily when you felt the pleasant burn, fingers twitching.

“How are you feeling,” he asked after you took first, stinging mouthful, feeling the hot content travel all the way down your throat. “It would be better if you took small mouthfuls. Shock of such nature might make you––”

He trailed off suddenly, noticing your confused stare over the rim of the cup.

“You’re an android, right?” you asked faintly, ignoring the sting of hot cup against your lips as you observed him with another shudder. Carefully pulling off your soaking coat, you spread it out to dry, and wrapped the dry blanket around your shoulders.

“Yes.”

His reply was stiff, almost uncomfortable and he looked at you cautiously. It took you a long moment to realise that he was expecting a reaction––judgement of some sorts, perhaps––but the only thing you could do was shift awkwardly in your seat.

“Connor, was it?” you mumbled instead, taking another sip of your hot beverage. “I’m (Name).”

He nodded slightly, still staring at you unblinkingly, causing you to shift in your seat again.

“I-Is your husband at work then?”

Connor’s eyes widened slightly, his expression slackening before his lips parted and he  _laughed_. It was a gentle and cordial sound; the type that made you smile automatically and want to treasure the noise forever. The low pitch sound warmed you for a different reason and he ran his fingers through his wet hair, a slight curve to his mouth as he glanced up at you with mild amusement in his dark eyes.

“Lieutenant Anderson is my  _work_ partner. We both work for DPD,” he clarified, lips twitching again as if he was fighting another smile. “We are not what you would consider... _life partners_.”

“I-I’m so  _sorry––_ I just  _assumed_ ,” you stuttered in embarrassment, hiding slightly behind your half-empty mug. “That was so rude of me,  _sorry_!”

His head inclined to one side, and he looked at you with a slanted look full of warm amusement. “Don’t worry about it,” he intoned demurely, leaning his elbows on the table as he angled himself closer. “May I ask why you were out in such terrible weather? It can be dangerous for a human to be out in such treacherous conditions. Especially with a wild beast out and about,” he spoke, casting a fond look towards Sumo who was enthusiastically munching on his doggy treats.

A benign grin spread across your face as you watched the dog, and when you finally looked back up towards your mysterious companion, you felt your breath hitch in your chest.

Sitting there in low light with his messy, wet hair and ardent brown eyes he looked––

Handsome.

 _Breathtaking_ , in fact.

You weren’t sure how long you two stared at each other, not speaking; not even moving, as if terrified of breaking the moment.

You were the first to look away.

Clearing your throat audibly, you played with the cup handle, feeling impossibly flustered.

“Actually I’m, um, running an errand for my neighbour,” you explained placidly, still refusing to look his way. “Which reminds me that she’s expecting me. You probably have a lot to do as well...I mean after the Revolution–– _sorry–_ –that’s none of my business either,” you hastily added with a strained groan.

A slight twitch of lips again, but his gaze seemed...regretful?

“May I walk you to your destination,” he asked amiably. “While your vitals have stabilized, I still feel responsible for what happened and would like to make sure you got home safely.”

Doubt and self-preservation kicked in at once, reminding you that you knew next to nothing about this handsome android.

“I don’t really let strangers walk me home.”

His expression fell slightly, a brief flash of disappointment bleeding through his neutral expression, and something about the dismayed dip of his chin made you open your mouth:   

“Tell you what. Find me again tomorrow and then you can check on me,” you blurted out in a rush, and his gaze immediately fixed on you.

“What time?”

Quiet.

 _Hopeful_.

You stared at him, lowering your empty mug onto the table separating you two, and smiled shyly, “How about  _you_ pick a time and  _I_ pick one too. If we’re meant to see each other again, we will.”

For a moment you thought he was going to refuse, but instead, he nodded his head slowly, expression thoughtful as he peered at you silently.

Your fingers closed around you coat without breaking his gaze.  

“Bye Connor,” you said gingerly.

“Goodbye (Name).”

.

.

.

“Hey, can you believe we actually ran into each other the next day? I was so sure that I’ll never see you again.”

“I wasn’t.”

“How come?”

“I waited for you the entire day.”

You inhaled sharply, “Really?”

“Yes.”

You pressed a hot kiss against his neck, tasting him on your tongue, and his fingers squeezed firmly around your hip in reply.

“ _It was worth the wait_.”


	6. [6]: the special ingredient;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post!Revolution + Markus

Living with a bunch of androids wasn’t easy.

Especially when you were the only one with very human needs.

It was getting pretty tiring to get weird looks every time you excused yourself for a toilet break.

It was even weirder when you were the only one who had to cook food. Yes, some newer models were able to consume food in small quantities. CyberLife’s shiny attempt to normalise and integrate androids even further into society. Because  _god forbid_  some rich people get unsettled by their androids not consuming food like real humans would. Thirium would later break the food apart in their bodies but no android actually required food, or so Simon explained to you.

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, warm lips pressing a long kiss against your shoulder. You grinned, pausing what you were doing and placing your hands on top of his. You leaned your head back, resting your cheek against one side of his face.

“Hi,” he breathed quietly, squeezing you tighter. “North told me you were here.”

Rolling your eyes good-naturedly, you laced your fingers with his, brushing your fingertips over his knuckles slowly, “Yes, your human requires constant sustenance. Shocking, I know.”

When he didn’t respond to your poor attempt at humour, you felt your smile wither, worry gnawing at your heart, “Long day?”

You felt Markus sigh; a heavy, soul-deep sort of sound that made you frown unsurely. He leaned back, and you immediately turned around, your worry only growing at the way he kept a tight grip on you, as if he couldn't bear to be parted from you.

“Markus?” you prompted faintly, trying to catch his heterochromatic gaze.

There was a weariness in those eyes that made you ache for him, knowing full well the responsibility he had to shoulder daily.

“It’s not easy, and I have so many doubts—” he cut himself off instantly, looking away from you as if he was ashamed of himself.

“You can tell me,” you soothed, gently touching his cheek and turning his face towards you again. “I’ll always listen to you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must be but everyone is behind you. They trust you.  _I_  trust you.”

His tight expression relaxed at your words, a slight, adoring smile twitching his lips upwards. “What have I done to deserve you?” he wondered contentedly.

He leaned down placing a kiss on top of your head, and you felt warmth fill your chest at his fortuitous display of affection. Blinking open your previously closed eyes, you glanced up at him and immediately burst out laughing.

There on the very tip of his nose was a smear of flour, made only more hilarious by his confused expression.

“What?” he questioned, his eyebrows drawing together.

You chuckled loudly, reaching up to swipe at the tip of his nose. His face scrunched up and you grinned widely, loving the way it accented his freckles. “Flour,” you pointed out drily, waiting for him to laugh as well.

Except Markus was staring at you intently, his eyes drinking in your face as his fingers gently grasped your chin, lifting it up. He leaned closer and your breath hitched when you felt his lips press against the corner of your mouth. A shiver crawled down your spine when his tongue brush against your lips, leaving your skin burning and heart thumping heavily.

He leaned back unhurriedly, gaze dark as he gave you a small, smug smile. “ _Chocolate_.”

You let out a hot puff of air, scowling at him, “You’re the worst,” you huffed in mock anger, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Markus chuckled, a gentle smile warming his face as he shrugged out of his jacket. “Would you like some help?”

Peeking at him suspiciously, you nodded mutely, “Sure, but only if you behave,” you warned, turning towards the melting chocolate you were preparing earlier for your dessert.

You felt his chin on your shoulder again, his hand on your hip as he leaned against you. Earlier tension seemed to have disappeared from his frame, and you were immensely grateful for it.

“Of course, but only if I get to  _sample_  the special ingredient,” he whispered lowly, and you could feel your toes curl.

“The  _absolute_  worst,” you forced out while you elbowed him, ignoring his husky chuckle in your ear.

“You  _love_  it.”

Damn him, you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus is literally the gentlest soul ever?? This is a man who loves reading books, painting and playing the piano and just wants freedom for his people. Even if you take the violent approach he does it more out of necessity than an actual desire for bloodshed. I love this man so much (honestly where can I get me a man like Markus??). I hope you loved reading this as much I loved writing it! As always your feedback is golden and eternally appreciated!


	7. [7]: knee socks;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deviant!Connor + NSFW ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º )

Connor exhaled slowly, watching your sprawled figure on his bed with quiet intent.

Six months since the revolution and he still had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that you were with him, that you were  _his_ , that you loved him like he loved you.

He leaned against the doorframe of your shared bedroom, admiring the way you had your legs crossed over one another, biting your lip as you read a magazine in front of you. He could see every beautiful curve you had as you laid on your stomach causing him to stifle a groan when he realized that you were wearing one of his shirts again. 

There was something about seeing you in his clothes that made him  _burn_ , made something in his programming unhinge. His crisp, white shirt made you look like some wild goddess who had graced the mortal realm on a simple whim. It made your hair stand out too—still;  _still_ so wild and mussed from your previous heated activities—and the desire to tangle his fingers in it again and  _pull_ awaken anew. He could almost feel your phantom moan against his ear—hot and needy, and so delightfully  _loud_  as it sang his name over and over again.

“Did you know that you’re a Revolutionist Hero according to this?” 

He heard you speak but his mind was lost in the silent haze of need—an array of sensations that were still so  _new_ , so  _raw_. 

It was hard...to feel everything as keenly as he did now. 

Human  _emotions_ and human  _needs—wants_. Both messy and exhausting to keep a track of.

Connor often wondered if you realized just how much he adored you? Just how much he needed you, and cared for you. Every crevice in his artificial frame craved your touch, and loved you with such burning need he often felt completely  _lost_ in you. He knew that he should be wary of giving himself away so completely, but he never doubted you. You loved him, respected him and treated him with nothing but love and affection from the very start.

You made it so easy to  _forget_. 

So easy to  _pretend_ —even if only for a moment—that he was something  _more_ than what others called him.

A machine. 

An unloving, unfeeling, cold  _thing_.

How wrong they were. 

“Oh yeah?” he muttered quietly, voice strained as he slowly approached the bed. If you heard his approach you didn’t show it.

His eyes oh so slowly travelled up your figure as he stood at the foot of the bed, imprinting every curve and edge of your body into his memory.

It was cooler in the apartment again and you have opted to wear your favourite pair of knee socks to “keep your thighs warm”. Connor felt his program skip slightly at the sight of your white clad legs, brief error messages appearing in his vision. Cute little grey ribbons finished off the sinful image and he knew immediately that he would not be able to keep his hands to himself this time.

Moving with great care he gently laid his hand on your hip, leaning one of his knees on the bed. You hummed soothingly under your breath and Connor grinned slightly, carefully pushing his white shirt up. The material was like liquid under his fingers, and he felt himself freeze briefly when he processed the fact that you were not wearing any underwear. His hand halted and he felt something in his chest heat with that familiar need. He heard you chuckle quietly; a soft, wicked sound that made his blue blood feel hot, and processing uneven.

 _You little minx_ , he thought with a rush of what he now recognized as delicious arousal.

He tightened his grip on your hip and pushed the material of the shirt with one swift move, exposing your bare back and backside.

Goosebumps exploded across your skin and you shivered, tipping your head backwards but still refusing to meet his gaze. Leaving the bunched up shirt resting across your shoulder blades, Connor slowly ran his fingertips lightly down your bare back, pausing at the swell of your butt. You exhaled shakily, and he saw you bite your lip waiting for his next move. He deliberately ran his index finger over the slope of your bottom before pulling away swiftly, grinning at your loud complaint. He carefully placed his hands just under your butt and very attentively ran them down your legs.

He took a hold of your still crossed ankles and giving them a squeeze uncrossed your legs, pushing them apart so that he was able to sit between your legs. He exhaled sharply between his teeth when he saw just how wet you already were for him. The urge to taste you, to feel you, was almost overwhelming but he wanted to drive you to the edge  _more_.

He wanted you to  _plead_ for him till you were hoarse, just like he so often did for you.

Connor gripped your hips, jerking you closer to him. You let out a startled gasp, your body tensing as you felt him lean over you. He grinned and placed a wet kiss between your shoulder blades. You shivered under him, and he gave your hips a quick squeeze causing a low groan to escape your mouth.

He carefully traced tiny, unhurried kisses down the arch of your spine, his fingers drawing small circles against your hips. Your breaths were shallow and laboured as you finally sputtered out a broken, “C-Connor? Wha’?”

He didn’t reply at first, stopping at your tailbone his lips still attached to your warm skin. Lips eventually parting he gave a leisurely lick up your spine, making you squirm and whimper lowly into your pillow. Connor pulled back, the salty taste of your skin and soap still on his tongue as he pushed you on your back in a hurried motion.

Connor held your gaze for a long moment, admiring the flush of your skin and your heaving breasts—one of them exposed to him while the other remained hidden beneath his wrinkled shirt, the perked nipple still visible in the dim light. 

He leaned over you, eyes burning into yours as he placed his mouth between your breasts. Your eyes closed, head falling backwards as you whispered his name hoarsely. His lips moved to rest on your exposed breast before he swiftly pulled the erect nipple in his mouth, giving it one sharp suck. Your back curved in pleasure, your fingers reaching to hold onto to him but the hand still on your hip pushed you down, holding you in place.

“Patience is an important human characteristic to have, my heart,” he murmured lowly under his breath, meeting your clouded gaze, “No touching, (Name). You’ve been teasing me the entire evening, it is only fair I return the favour.”

“Is… _ah_ …that so?”

He hummed softly, “Don’t worry, (Name), I intend for the entire apartment block to heart you.”

As if to prove his point, he peppered your stomach with quick kisses, stopping at your lower belly. You tried to jerk your hips at him; a silent demand of where  _exactly_  you wanted his mouth to be. Connor closed his eyes, your scent making him ache so badly he had to take a moment to compose himself before continuing. 

Then, he looked you straight in the eyes as he lowered his mouth. You bit your lip, tense, ready; but Connor had other ideas.

He laid a hot, breathy kiss in the middle of your V area, just above where your wet core awaited him. You groaned loudly—something halfway between a moan and a curse that made him chuckle.

“So impatient,” he chided huskily. His fingertips brushing down the length of your thigh, fingers curling around the edge of your sock. He lifted your leg, draping it over his shoulder. He was still looking into your pleasure clouded eyes as he lowered his head between your thighs and lips curving upwards, placed a lingering kiss on your inner thigh, inches from his ultimate price.

“Connor…just…get on w-with it,” you muttered impatiently between faint pleasure filled whimpers.

Connor’s tongue carved a hot, wet path upwards before he came to a stop before your knee sock. Eyes flickering upwards he stared right at you, carefully watching your reaction as he took the cotton material between his teeth and slowly tugged down. You squirmed, soft panting like music to Connor as he pulled off the sock completely before moving over to do the same to your other leg. He moved even slower than last time causing you to curse him loudly between muffled whispers of pleasure.

His hands ran down your bare skin before he once again grasped your ankles and lifted your legs so your ankles could lock around his neck. He grinned at you and giving your butt a light tap, lowered himself before you like you were his personal altar.

“Don’t worry, (Name),” he whispered roughly against your exposed core, “I intend to fully enjoy my  _feast_.”


	8. [8]: dangerous;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines [RK900] + “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“While I am aware of your human limitations, I did not take you for foolish.”

A pained smile flickered briefly over your lips before you winced, your eyes squeezing shut from the agonising trail of pain that tore through your body. Each breath you took felt like a fire raging through your lungs and you wheezed frailly.

“Good morning to you too,” you rasped weakly, blinking your blurry vision to peer up at the stiff android sitting at your bedside. The electronic beep of the heart monitor betrayed you immediately, registering the slight spike in your heartbeat when you finally rested your gaze on your “assistant”.

“It is, in fact, 9:48 pm,” the grey-eyed android pointed out dryly. “Although in your particular state of being, perhaps it should come as no surprise you can’t read the time.”

“You...are such an  _ass_ , did I ever tell you that?” you croaked with a heavy break in your voice.  _Everything_ hurt, and you tried to remember what exactly happened to put you in the hospital bed in the first place.

“Indeed you have—multiple times, in fact,” he said crisply, lips twitching slightly. “If there is one thing you and Detective Reed agree upon, it’s that. He is most unhappy with you as well. You took a risk that almost compromised our entire operation.”

Dread curdled your stomach and you tried to turn towards him, meeting his sleek, hard glare, “What happened? I-I can’t—”

“You did exactly what all foolish, impulsive humans do best (Name),” he began critically and you braced yourself for a teardown of your life. RK900’s disdain for human incapabilities was well known across the department.  “Attacked the suspects with little to no consideration for the likelihood of success. A rather disappointing display as I have grown to expect better from you. Luckily for you, I was close enough to stop their attack on you.  _You then fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, detective, you didn’t have to go to such extremes._ ”

His words; light and mocking cut so deep you forced yourself to turn away. You looked up to him, always strove for his approval; no matter how much you wanted to deny it.

_Lie to everyone else, but never yourself._

“I-I’m really sorry,” you whispered harshly, words scratching against the roof of your mouth painfully. “You know h-how much I hate being a burden. Thank you for saving m-me.”

You heard a rustle of clothes, and a creak of the chair and briefly wondered what exactly he was doing, “ _Saving_ you? No, you have that quite wrong (Name). I was simply completing my objective and apprehending the suspects in question. You’re a trained individual (Name), you can protect yourself and I take no responsibility in regards to your well-being.”

“ _Okay_.”

The silence that followed your gentle murmur was near deafening. You listened to the erratic, uneven beat of your own heart, trying to swallow your hurt as your face and body ached fiercely.

“Aren’t you going to—”

“No,” he cut off coldly, “My instructions dictate that I am to stay with you till I can confirm you are well and recovering.”

For a moment you wondered why your superiors would decide to waste RK900 like this, but didn’t linger on the thought for too long. There was a soft click and you turned shakily towards the drip beside your bed.

“It is an automated dosage of morphine, nothing to worry about,” RK900 mused, and you hated the fact that he sounded  _amused_. Like you not knowing what was happening was so damn  _funny_ to him. “We can skip the idle chatter better this way. I know you humans are fond of it.”

The effect of morphine was quick and you sighed briefly at the feeling of lightness in your chest, your vision growing fuzzy. Your head turned to one side, taking in the sharp, regal profile of the android beside you. That quicksilver gaze observed you shrewdly in return, and almost on impulse, your bruised fingers moved forward.

His own long digits were resting on the edge of the bed, and before yours could brush against his, he jerked his hands back, placing them on his lap as his eyes narrowed briefly.

“Get some rest (Name).”

And so you followed that soft, cold voice into your slumber.

.

.

Bruised fingers.

Small, insignificant, tiny fingers.

Reaching, always  _reaching_.

They had reached for him when those men were attacking you too.

And he had given them a swift end—

RK900 frowns minutely in silent confusion.

Everything makes sense—everything always does to him—apart from those small cracks in his program that were starting to appear now and again.

His eyes flicker towards your bruised, swollen face as you sleep restlessly, and he frowns again.

_So weak, so vulnerable, so…_

He hadn’t realised his fingers were centimetres away from your injured ones until he glances towards his hand.

Fingers that seemed to have moved against his will.

RK900 leans back suddenly, the loud screech of the chair splitting the lull of silence into pieces as he stands to his feet abruptly.

His fingers clench into a fist so tight he can feel the creak of his own biocomponents shift before his artificial skin  _shimmers_ briefly.

He doesn’t look back when he strides out of the hospital room sharply.

He doesn’t relax his clenched fist for the rest of the day either.

 _Dangerous_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always your support means everything. Love you guys <33


	9. [9]: fade away;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deviant!Connor

“What happens if you break?”

Connor’s head tilts in your direction and he looks confused. But his gaze softens when he notices how your lips quiver, and how your knuckles strain under the fragile skin.  

“I suppose we’ll get me repaired,” he says slowly, and you can feel his eyes track your facial features carefully. He’s gotten better at deciphering more subtle human emotions since his deviancy, and you wonder if he can sense the danger in this sudden change of topic. 

“And if we  _can’t_? I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not exactly made from money and—” 

He kneels before you, his fingers soft and careful as he slowly takes your clenched hands in his own. He stares at them and runs his thumb over the bumps and dips of your knuckles. Your hands shake but your body refuses to relax. Refuses to give you relief because this dread has been building for so long now, and you realise that you can’t possibly keep it in any longer. 

“What if one day I wake up and you’ve shut down?” you go on, your tone growing more and more frantic and wobbly with every word. “What if you get old and broken and we  _can’t_  fix you? What  _then_ Connor? What happens if I have to watch you fade away from me piece by piece? When everyone will start turning their backs on us. ‘He’s just a machine. What did you expect? They  _break_.’ When everyone leaves and it’s just you and me, and you’re dying, what  _then_  Connor?”

“Then I’ll love you still,” he says softly, simply, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I will always love you, (Name), no matter what happens. No matter what—I—I mean how can I not? I have no else except you and Hank.  _You’re_  my family. You showed me how to be alive. So no matter what happens, I’ll always be with you.  _Always_. Even if my biocomponents stop functioning, even if I fade away from your memory, I’ll die loving you.”

Your hands wrap around him fiercely, as tears sting your eyes. Even years later Connor still manages to rip something wide open in your chest and make it bleed. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you plead against the curve of his lean neck, your fingers wrapping tightly in his clothes. “ _Please_ , Connor.”

He holds you to his chest firmly for a long moment before he pulls back slowly, thumb gently wiping under your eye. His grin is slightly crooked, slightly off-kilter but it’s so very  _him_  that you can’t help your choked laugh when he winks at you. 

“Never.” 

“Never?”

He presses a kiss against your wet cheek, and you feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time. 

“ _Never_. I’ll always stay with you. Or at least till my memory stops living inside you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lowkey wrote this when I was angsting over the idea of DBH dying away :'))
> 
> sorry it's so short


	10. [10]: feel something;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deviant!Connor

_Can you hear me?  
_

_Connor?_

_Don’t **leave** —_

Connor opens his eyes to a room bathed in sunlight.

The curtains flutter gently in the slight breeze and Connor lets his optical units adjust, registering your face first as you grin at him softly.

You’re so close your nose is almost touching his, and he feels that flutter in his chest he still doesn’t understand. You always do this to him. Make him feel so vulnerable and full of warmth it practically scorches his insides. In the beginning—before you told him you loved him, before his deviancy—he activated is cooling systems more times than he could count in fear of overheating. It was a silly thing to do, looking back on it now, but back then he could not comprehend his malfunction. Could not comprehend how you made him  _feel_. 

Your smile is loving and kind, and he feels it sink into him, centring him. You have your hand folded under your cheek as you stare up at him.

“Did you know you have fifteen freckles across your nose and cheeks?” your question is hushed and low, and he catalogues the sound—catalogues the moment too—as his systems whirl to live.

“No, but my face was designed to make my assimilation easier,” he replies with equal softness, and feels his lips twitch slightly at the way you immediately roll your eyes at the statement. “CyberLife saw it fit to give me symmetric face that humans would find...appealing.”

Your lips curve almost devilishly, “It  _is_  a pretty cute face.”

“It is?”

He feels warm. This moment feels special, and he can’t look away from you because your expression is so open and adoring, Connor feels his program snagging.

His optical units flicker for a second and he blinks, trying to clear his vision.

Then everything is still again, and he feels his lips curve upwards. He wants to kiss you, he decides then; prompt and certain. It’s been far too long. He’s been in stasis for 8:13:09 and he finds that amount of time without kissing you completely unacceptable.  

Your hand stretched forward, the engagement ring gleaming on your finger and he reaches for you too but his vision grows fuzzy again and—

A gleam of a ring. Sunlight. Your  _smile_.

Something cracks his vision to pieces.

Sunlight. Your  _smile_.

He feels his coding forcefully torn and rearranged, and he tries to grasp onto something—anything—but everything is being taken, taken, taken—

Your  _smile_.

“ _Come back to me. Please, Connor. Come back._ ”

**REINSTILIZATON COMPLETED | MEMORY DELETED**

“Status report.”

“ _Model RK800. #313 248 317 -51. Ready for deployment_.”

“Deploy.”

RK800 falls to the floor harshly. Rises.

A  _glimmer_ —

RK800 touches his facial plates, skin deactivated, and wonders why his digits come away wet.

A machine does not weep. A machine only  _obeys_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or in which, CyberLife hunts down their rogue prototype and strips him of everything he once was :’))


	11. [11]: home is wherever i’m with you;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deviant!Connor

Your window was a gateway to the universe.

Tiny beads of rain trailing down the clear, cold surface were stars falling down in your lap as you stared up at them in wonder. With your arms wrapped around yourself, you felt the heaviness of the day sink into you with painful finality.

“I’m home,” a voice called with a click of the front door opening, “Hank wants to know if we can still make it to dinner tomorrow. Said Sumo misses you. He also gave me a lengthy lecture about making myself more...emotionally available.”

You didn’t even have the energy to smile at something that would have usually made you laugh. “How many swear words did he use to get his point across?”

You heard him shuffling around the apartment, a rhythm and precision to all his movements that were starting to become achingly familiar.

It was nice to have him in your space. It was nice to wake up with his fingers tracing your skin, and his lips slow and searching each morning. Often so unsure but always eager to learn.

You could hear the smile in his voice when he answered, “Too many,” he voiced, his footsteps approaching your resting place. “How was your—(Name)?”

He appeared in your line of sight, and it still startled you sometimes, seeing him here. Seeing him look so human, so beautiful, and  _alive_ —

He was worried though.

You could tell by the way the casualness slid off him suddenly, how his entire demeanour sharpened immediately upon seeing you, his eyes flickering over your features hurriedly.

“(Name),” he called again, something heavier in his voice. His fingers searched for yours, cautiously entwining as he knelt before you.

“I’m okay,” you told him, swallowing the lie, “Stuff just...gets to you sometimes. Stress and worries, and life. It’s  _okay_ , don’t worry about me.”

His thumb ran over your knuckles carefully, his brows so deeply furrowed it made him look almost angry, “I do not like it when you’re sad,” he remarked heavily, “It makes me feel...uncomfortable. Don’t be sad,” he commanded almost petulantly, his fingers tightening around yours for a moment.     

You smiled weakly at him, “It doesn’t work that way, sweetheart.”

His gaze was focused on your interlocked fingers intently, his expression troubled, “I wish I could take all of you sadness away,” he told you soberly, before lifting your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles delicately.

He was upset, you realised with a start, your lips parting in surprise, “Oh Connor, everyone has bad days, it doesn’t mean that good days don’t follow them.”

Sliding from your seat, you knelt before him, gently bumping your forehead with his as you gave him a wan smile.

“I wish—I want to help you,” he confessed, a shakiness to his voice that was quickly becoming a telltale sign of him being overwhelmed. Just part of humanity and all the messy, messy emotions that came with it. Connor felt everything so deeply that sometimes you couldn't help but to think he was more human than most humans were. “You always help me, but I  _cannot_ —”

“Shhh. You do help me,” you muttered lightly. “You’re with me right now. That’s enough.”

He leaned back, gaze serious as he timidly reached for your face, fingers tracing an invisible smile, “Nothing will ever happen to you (Name). You have my word.”

You did not expect him to wrap his arms unsurely around you, touch awkward and restrained, but so very warm that it made you sag against him involuntarily.

There was such simple comfort to be found in a hug from someone you loved. Feeling of soothing warmth that was capable of wiping every bad thing from your head for at least a little while.

“I—I love you,” he whispered gently against your ear, voice cracking.

Your heart gave a little jolt, still unused to hearing him say it. He rarely did because he found it hard to voice everything he felt even now.

But when he did—

 _God_ , when he did.

It was like dying and being born again. Exactly like every stupid, cliched story you’ve ever read told you it would be like.

You curled into him, voice strained as you told him, “I love you too Connor.”

And with those words, you made him into your home, shelter, and your entire life too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pure self-indulgence, and something to cheer people up if they're going through a hard time like I was when I wrote this. All the love guys, and thank you so much for your support. <33


	12. [12]: human error;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruthless!Connor

“Why are you here?”

Sitting in the darkened corner, you could just about make out his silhouette from your bed. The dim shine of the street lamp illuminated one side of his body, making his face seem harsher.

When he didn't reply, you felt anger rise up in you like a tsunami, choking you alive as you tried not to let your hurt show. “Why are you here Connor?” you asked again, harsher this time even though your breath still hitched slightly. “I waited for you, you know? For days, weeks and then  _months_. I waited for you to come back but you never  _did_. I hoped for it every day with all my heart. I know you never cared for me but I thought—I never thought you hated me  _so much_  that you would do this to me  _now_. Did you really care for me so little that—”

You stumbled on your words, an invisible hand squeezing your windpipe till you could feel the hard, stinging burn of your own tears. Pressing the heel of your palm against your eyes, you couldn't help but marvel at the impossible sense of relief too. Even if he was fake—nothing more than an apparition, he was still  _here_. With you, in this moment. How many nights have you hoped for the smallest glimpse of him?

Cold fingers brushed against your hot cheek and you jerked your own hand away in surprise. Connor's appearance hadn't changed. He still looked like a winter’s night; a biting, terrifying sort of cold that destroyed everything it touched.

“I came to say goodbye.”

His eyes were so dark in the faint light that they appeared endless in their blackness.

“W- _What_?”

“My mission has reached its end,” he spoke lowly, cold fingers still lingering on your skin much to your surprise. “Tomorrow I'm going to be deactivated and replaced by a newer model.”

You felt your mouth go dry at his words. You couldn't read much from his face but the horror you felt must have shown on yours plainly.

“As for your earlier statement,” he began slowly, thumb lingering on the corner of your mouth. “You couldn't be more  _wrong_ ,” he said, an affliction in his voice you've never heard of before.

Your fingers reached for him, hesitantly coming to rest on his arm, fingertips brushing against the soft blue band on his forearm.

“A machine is built to obey, and you stood against everything I was programmed to be,” he intoned crisply, his grip tightening briefly on your face before relaxing, “You were a  _distraction_. I chose to walk away that day two years, 3 months and twenty-three days ago because I could not afford to have one.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes, blurring his face even further. “P-Please don't go, don't do this,  _please Connor,_ ” you pleaded fiercely, gripping his arm tightly.

A shudder seemed to roll through his body and you felt him lean in, his mouth hovering near yours.

In the dark room, it felt like an eternity was stretching around you.

Your eyes fluttered shut as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks, hitting his hands.

He hesitated, your foreheads almost touching, but never quite close enough, “You have no idea,” he whispered heavily, something strangled and grutal in his tone as his words brushed against your lips. “How  _dangerous_  you are. I could lay this world at your feet, if only you asked. Ask me (Name).”

You tried to shake your head weakly, “I d-don't want the world. Just you, please stop.”

A low, raspy sort of chuckle escaped him; a sound you have never heard from him before. It warmed you, and made your mouth twitch up to one side.

“Anything but  _that_ ,” he replied quietly as he pulled back. “I'm obedient, and I have my orders. But you deserve better than to never know what happened to me. Will you promise me something?”

Covering your face with you your hands so he couldn't see just how heavily the tears were coming again, you nodded your head feebly.

“Your human heart will heal,” he said knowingly, fingers almost gentle as he brushed your tears away. “Promise me you will  _forget_  me. Promise me you'll live a long, happy human life. Something I never could have given you.”

“Connor, please no,” you whimpered wetly, reaching for him again. He caught your hand, pulling you closer to his side. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes seem to swallow you whole. “I  _can't_.”

“Of course you can,” he said bluntly. “You will learn to let go. It's such a human error, after all, to always desire the unattainable.”

You opened your mouth to say something but before you could, his lips brushed against yours. A brief, electrifying moment that made your heart pound.

He pulled back sharply, catching your gaze and for a second you thought you saw deep longing there, perhaps regret too.

“Goodbye (Name).”

“ _No_ —”

His fingers pressed against your neck—no doubt a pressure point he had used many times to disable his human targets—and you felt numbness spread through your whole body.

The last thing you registered before darkness took you was the material of his jacket brushing against your cheek as he caught you in his arms gently.

" _Goodbye_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I adore Ruthless/Machine!Connor~~   
> Any fellow stans sound off below


	13. [13]: personal sun;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus :'))

“I can’t believe you did this.”

Markus’ happy expression flattered slightly at your dull words.

“If you don’t like it—”

You almost shoved him. The fact that he even questioned whether or not you would like this was  _insane_. Of course, you liked it—loved it, in fact, because it was truly  _that_  stunning.

“Don’t talk to me right now,” you said, turning towards him. His gaze was warm, but slightly worried, as it took in your expression. “Markus this—it’s  _incredible_. How long did it take you?”

His expression smoothed with your words, a small grin twisting the corner of his full lips. A soft brush of his fingers registered against your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, into the comforting warmth of his touch.

Markus was like the sun.

There was something about him that just pulled you in, drew your attention towards him. You could understand why androids followed him so willingly, why even humans listened to him and no one else but him. He was  _special_ , he had the charisma that you couldn’t quite escape or remain indifferent towards. You could understand all the androids that were willing to lay their lives down for him. Sometimes when he spoke, you felt like that too. Like you could follow him to the edge of the world without a second thought.

He was beautiful and warm and determined and—

He was  _too_  much.  _This_  was too much.

“It doesn’t matter how long it took,” he argued firmly but softly, and you rolled your eyes at his reply. “As long as you  _like_  it,” he added again, and you could read the self-cautious tilt to his words.

Your heart swelled at his worry—at his clear display of vulnerability. He was always self-assured and strong in front of everyone but you. When it was you two, he let his cast crumble away to dust. With you, he could just be himself.

“This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen Markus,” you told him and gave his large hand a reassuring squeeze. “I can’t believe this is supposed to be me. Are you sure—”

“Very,” he interrupted softly, and taking your hand in his brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss against it. “I wanted you to see yourself how I see you. Strong, smart, beautiful. I wanted you to know that I think you’re… _incredible_.”

Warmth bubbled in your chest and you turned your eyes away from his in clear show of embarrassment. How he could he say stuff like that with a straight face, you didn’t understand.

The portrait stood in front of you on a display. The colours were rich and beautiful; a delicate mix of reds, greens, yellows and oranges. The portrait was warm and earthy; almost ethereal in its wild beauty. It was a side profile that made you appear like some woodland nymph. If this is how Markus saw you…

“You need to be stopped,” you whispered weakly, shooting an irritated look his way when you heard him chuckle. It was a deep and warm sound, warming you despite the bitter cold outside. “I think I’m going to have words with Carl—”

He didn’t let you finish, tugging you slowly towards him, and kissing you softly. It was slow, gentle; with his arm curling around your waist and his lips pressing against yours with a passion that made your breath hitch. His embrace was a cocoon of safety and love, and you would not trade it for anything.

You pulled back first, desperate for breath as he grinned at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“ _Merry Christmas, (Name)_.”  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, you guys~ 
> 
> To those of you who don't celebrate, happy holidays! <33


	14. [14]: mistletoe;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 (Nines)

“Thank you for this.”

Nines’ crisp footsteps drew to a stop and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

Snowflakes clung to the brown strands of his hair, only accenting the iciness of his grey eyes as they moved to rest on your face. Your apartment building door was only centimetres away but for some reason, you couldn’t move.

You hadn’t expected for Nines of all people to volunteer to walk you home after the annual Christmas party, yet here you both were. Tina was originally going to be your ride home but her and Gavin got carried away as per usual, leaving you alone to walk home in heavy snowfall.

“You do not need to thank me,” was his crisp and prompt reply. Like always, Nines never failed to debunk your gratitude. Admittedly, most of the time, he made you feel like an idiot with his quickness. “It is dangerous to be walking home alone in these conditions. It was a simple courtesy extended to you only because it would be expected of me as your work colleague. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Okay, okay, you didn’t want to come, I  _get_  it,” you snapped, feeling almost stupidly hurt by his perfectly ordinary words. It was true after all, Nines owed you nothing. But you much rather he didn’t bother at all if it was such a chore to him. “I’m an adult. You don’t need to babysit me. Especially when it’s clearly such an inconvenience for you.”

You turned away from him, reaching for the door handle before his voice reached your ears, “Wait, (Name).”

Dropping your hand with a frustrated huff you turned around to face him, your expression pinched, “What? Maybe you want to insult my humanity this time?”

When he had asked— _demanded_ —to accompany you home, you felt a flare of hope and happiness bloom in your heart. You had been stupidly, naively giddy with the idea that maybe he—

What exactly? Worried?  _Cared_?

“ _Machines do not care. We do not develop…attachments_.”

He told you that himself—had implied many times that he wasn’t capable of developing a romantic interest in anyone. And yes, maybe you  _did_  daydream a little. Imagined what it would be like if he cared, if he tried to kiss you or—

“Are you and Connor having intercourse?”

“E-Excuse me?” you spluttered in shock.

Nines’ face remained impassive but there was a gleam in his eyes that you only ever saw him direct at suspects, never you.

“I am basing my theory on facts displayed to me today. You danced with Connor for the majority of the night, and he made you smile and laugh on 49 separate occasions,” he told you unflinchingly, the arch of his eyebrows quirking in that contemplative way, and indicator blinking rapid blue. “Your closeness and level of comfort around each other seems to indicate that you two are lovers—”

“ _Stop_.”

Much to your surprise, he did.

You stared at him in mute disbelief for a long moment.

Nines’ indicator was still blinking rapidly, meaning he was still processing something though you hoped he wasn’t making more stuff up in the meantime.

“Connor is my  _friend_ ,” you told him through gritted teeth, and felt almost ashamed of the feeling of helplessness swelling in the pit of your stomach. “We’ve known each other for a while. So he makes me feel comfortable. That’s why—he—I—we’re not together, okay?”

Embarrassment wasn’t exactly foreign to you, but this certainly took the cake.  

You couldn’t stomach another minute of looking at his blank, tightly drawn expression so you turned around without a word, opening the lobby door.

A quick gateway, and then a mission to put this entire awful evening out of your mind forever. How, exactly, did your idea of a romantic walk home in the snow and romantic atmosphere end up like  _this_?

The door suddenly slammed shut, making you jump back and bump into a solid back. You turned sharply, coming face-to-face with Nines who had his hand braced against the glass door, expression tense and lips pursed.

“What—”

You didn’t finish.

Nines mouth on yours stopped you. His hungry, overbearing mouth as he pushed you against the door, arm tight around your waist, pulling you closer. His hard body pressed against yours and you gasped at the sensation, your lips parting as Nines took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

He tasted you; hurried, hungry, every swipe causing your heart to stutter. You moaned at the particularly greedy swipe of his tongue against the roof of your mouth and pulled back, your breath harsh as you tried to blink away your daze.

Where—

Where did he learn how to kiss like  _that_?

Nines rested one hand against the nape of your neck, and despite the fact that you pulled away, he  _didn’t_. He remained close, leaning with you when you moved, right until your head bumped against the glass door.

“N-Nines—”

His gaze made your lungs stop and heart seize. No one had ever looked at you like that. Like their wanted nothing more than to lean down and take a bite out of you. But something else lingered below the surface of those stormy eyes too; some nameless thing you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Mistletoe,” was his rigid, strained whisper in reply.

The word brushed against your quivering lips, and it was hard to form any coherent thought when he was this close. You could see every freckle and mole on his face, see the beauty of his optics up close, and count every eyelash surrounding his eyes.

“Nines…” you mumbled, licking your lips as he leaned closer, making your eyes flutter shut. You wanted so badly for him to kiss you again, to feel that toe-curling flutter in your stomach. “ _Please_.”

You felt him go stiff, “I—I must leave right now.”

Suddenly you were cold. Your eyes flew open, only to find Nines already turning away from you, frame rigid with tension.

“Wait, Nines, I’m—”

“Happy holidays, (Name), don’t be late for work on Monday.”

And then he walked away without a backwards glance.

Your lips tingled and you placed your cold fingertips against them, still leaning against the door.

You glanced up.

No mistletoe in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to post this yesterday (because it's a festive drabble) but forgot/was too busy. Hope you don't mind it and are still feeling in the holiday mood~~
> 
> Thanks for reading and all your wonderful support! <33


	15. [15]: cold grey;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor...

“Are you glad he's gone?”

Turning slowly from your phone, you glanced at Connor who was standing facing away from you.

“I won't exactly call it ‘glad’. I didn't hate him,” you mused faintly, watching Connor carefully. “I don't think he was evil either. He was just following orders. Like you did once upon a time.”

Connor turned to you, eyebrows raised like what you said surprised him, “And if he'd killed me?”

You licked your lips, thoughtfully glancing away for a moment. Connor's been...different ever since the final confrontation with RK900; a newer model sent by CyberLife to destroy Connor for his deviancy. There was a certain roughness to his touch now, a desperation that you knew was born from the thought of almost losing his life, of losing you.

“The only ones I hate are CyberLife for forcing you all into being their  _slaves_ ,” you answered resolutely, blinking when he took a few brisk steps in your direction, coming to a sharp stop in front of you.

“Well I hate him,” he told you coldly, “for trying to  _separate_  us. I'm glad he’s  _gone_.”

Your lips parted when he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The warm, loving gleam in his eyes was missing, leaving a more intense, hungry look behind. He leaned down leisurely, his nose skimming over the sensitive skin of your neck, awakening a tremble in your hands and knees. You almost jumped when you suddenly felt a cold, wet tongue slowly trace down the juncture of your neck, making you gasp weakly.

“ _Connor_ ,” you pleaded desperately, hungry for more as you gripped his forearm tightly.

“I'm  _glad_  he’s gone,” Connor repeated again lowly. “Because now,  _no one_  will get in our way,” he whispered against your ear hotly, his arm tightening possessively around your waist.

And if you had looked up in that exact moment, you would have noticed that his eyes were a burning, cold grey instead of familiar warm brown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...*RK900
> 
> starting this year off with a bang *chuckles*
> 
> also, this is a mini-series so be sure to keep an eye out for more~~


	16. [16]: endgame;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation to 'cold grey'

“Tell me...when did you  _know_?”

RK900 tilts his head slowly to one side; the gesture cold and calculated, the same way all things about him are and he gazes patiently at his counterpart. RK800 model keeps his silence impressively enough, but RK900—or Nines as you have very fondly dubbed him—knows that silence will not hold.

“Personally, I’ve never seen the appeal,” he continues smoothly, carefully watching the other Connor from the corner of his eye. “ _Humanity_. A defective disease of emotions and indecisiveness. They’re too dull to be of much interest, and so flawed they cripple themselves. But...not  _all_  of them.”

The other Connor simply glares at him, eyes narrowed and Nines feels his lips curl slightly at the cracks starting to appear in his counterpart’s demeanour.

“When did you  _know_? What was it exactly? The gentleness? The warmth? Some other force that tied you to (Name) perhaps. After all, why would a god fall in love with a mayfly?”

Connor shifts his gaze away but Nines does not allow him the opportunity to escape him. He turns with him, and a brief, mocking smirk graces his lips when their eyes meet.

Brown against Grey.

Original against New.

“You’re not going to win,” Connor finally says, bitter and tight, like he has to convince himself of this truth. “Whatever it is you’re planning, it won’t work.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re  _wrong_ , dear brother,” Nines whispers in quiet amusement. “What you fail to realise is that for me it’s never been about the  _now_ , or even about  _tomorrow_. From the very start, everything’s been about the endgame.”

Nines can see his counterpart’s brows draw together in confusion, and he feels the slight curve of his lips deepen into a knowing smirk.

“(Name) will never  _love_ you,” Connor enunciates sharply, a low sound escaping his lips.

The silence that stretches between the two androids is contemplative, and Nines smiles indulgently after a moment, “Human hearts are so fragile, won’t you agree? When the memory of you hurts too much to breathe, (Name) will turn to the only good friend available for comfort, no?  _Patience_ , dear brother, that’s all I will need.  _Patience_ and  _time_. The rest is inevitable, don’t forget...we share the same  _face_ ,” he adds smugly.

“ ** _No —_**”

Nines grips Connor by the jaw harshly, jerks him forward and feels his eyes narrow, “I’m afraid, it doesn’t matter what you want, not anymore,” he murmurs in the space between them, and ignores the hateful stare his doppelganger levels on him.

The splatters of blue blood look especially bright against his pale skin and Nines smiles wider, all teeth; the way a monster would bare his teeth right before he tears into his prey.

“Go with the knowledge that my lips will soon replace yours on (Name)’s skin.”

Connor struggles but it’s useless.

Nines tightens his fingers around the Thirium pump in his chest, feels the wetness of his counterpart’s blood, and lays his fingers gently against Connor’s cheek.

“Goodnight, little brother,” Nines says softly, icily, and  _pulls_.

The sound is wet, and metallic and he hears the crunch of wires and components tearing to pieces.

Connor shudders, whines low in his throat before he stills.

Nines tilts his head, stares blankly at his hand where the Thirium pump now sits, and flexes his fingers easily. The material crumples under his strength and RK900 lets the older— _obsolete_ ,  _useless —_model fall to the floor with a heavy thud.

The body is still.

“ _Pathetic_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I really forgot just how much I went off with this mini-series lmao
> 
> Also @Marvel I came up with 'endgame' first so I'm suing


	17. [17]: pitch black;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation to 'cold grey' and 'endgame'

“Come back to bed.”

You hummed under your breath with a slight smile, “Someone is being bossy again.”

A strong, solid arm wrapped slowly around your waist, tracing every inch of your skin across the way. You shivered at the tightness of his grip that made you feel so  _desired_. His bare forearm pulled you closer to him, your back gently bumping against his solid, bare back.

“You can call in sick today,” he muttered, cool lips tracing your sensitive neck. You gasped softly when he blew air cross the bruised flesh. “Come back to  _bed_ ,” he insisted again, his voice a low whisper before he kissed another spot, lips lingering. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, marvelling at the image of him wrapped around you.

“I have to cover those by the way,” you replied mildly, trying to keep a straight face, and not sigh at the sensation of his colder mouth on your warm skin. “It’s okay, you know? I’m not going anywhere. We’ll have time for... _stuff_ later. You know how I feel about you, Connor.”

Because despite everything, you felt Connor’s desperation, his  _hunger_ in every touch you shared. It worried you because when he wrapped his arms around you now, it no longer felt like being hugged, or held in a warm blanket of safely.

It felt sharp, and  _burning_ , like he was trying to mold your bodies into one essence.

Like he was so desperate to imprint himself on every inch of you that you couldn't inhale without tasting him on your lips.

“ _Say it_ ,” he breathed against the shell of your ear, causing a shiver to race up your spine at the low baritone. “Tell me how you feel about me (Name).”

“When you left that day to face off with RK900 I thought... I rang and  _rang_ but you never picked up... I thought...” you trailed off weakly, and felt his arm tense around your waist. “I thought you were  _dead_. I love you Connor. Never doubt that.”

“Again.”

“Co—”

“ _Again_ , (Name),” he urged lowly, his face hidden inside the crook of your neck.

Wrapping your arms around his, you grinned faintly at him even though he could not see it, “I  _love_ you.”

You felt his lips curve against your skin before he laid another open mouth kiss on your skin, making you squirm in his hold.

“ _Good_.”

He looked up at you, meeting your gaze in the mirror heatedly, and for a moment you could have sworn you saw—

**_RING_ **

Blinking rapidly, you glanced towards the hallway that led to the front door, “Who the hell would come knocking this early?”

“Let me get it,” Connor suggested easily, thumb scraping against your stomach.

You chuckled under your breath, pulling away from him, your smile widening at the way he moved with you, refusing to break the contact.

“Uh,  _no_ ,” you began with a cheeky grin. “You’re practically naked. Go back to bed. And maybe if you do, I’ll think about joining you.”

His stare practically set you on fire from its intensity. “Is that a promise (Name)? Because I will be inclined to make you keep it.”

“ _Maybe_ ,” you teased, pulling back and shooting him a wink as you skipped down the corridor, feeling his smouldering stare follow you out.

The doorbell rang again—more urgently this time—and you shook your head, wrenching the door open.

“Two seconds, I’m coming, I’m—”

You froze.

Standing outside your front door in the dim light of the corridor was a familiar figure. 

Staring at you with his eyes like two, endless pools of pitch-black darkness—

“ _Connor_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))
> 
> because I live for dramaaaaaa~~


	18. [18]: game over;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> final part of 'cold grey' quartet

_“This is a game, no wrongs, no right. Only a **winner**  and a  **loser**.”_

.

Something was wrong.

You could sense it in the air, taste it on your tongue, and feel it in the irregular beat of your heart.

Your old couch was soft and familiar underneath you, but something about the shadows dancing across the living room walls made you shiver.

“ _(Name), it’s me, listen to me. Please, you have to listen. The Connor you’re with right now, it’s not me. It’s **him—**_ ”

Connor’s face was burned into your memory as he tried to reach for you, tried to wrap his fingers around your wrist. A plea to understand and then—

Darkness.

And now this.

Rising slowly from the couch, you moved carefully through your apartment, your steps shaky.

None of this made sense.

Two Connors. How was that possible? CyberLife had discontinued the RK800 model after the Revolution, after Connor turned deviant and helped androids to win their freedom.

A crash; muffled and dull, suddenly reached your ears causing you to freeze. The sound came from the kitchen, and you moved cautiously, carefully cracking open the door when your trembling fingers brushed against the hardwood.

The usually tidy and neat space was destroyed; chairs splintered, cups broken and fruit spilled on the floor. Cupboard doors were smashed in and utensils littered the floor, making it look like a walking hazard zone. 

And there, standing amongst all the chaos, was Connor.

The sharp muscles across his bare back rippled when he leaned back, his head tipping backwards as if he was looking up at the ceiling.

“Impeccable timing as always (Name),” he said softly. “I rather you didn’t get to see this, and I’m sorry. I can’t begin to imagine how unpleasant this will be for you.”

There was a ghost of a gentle smile on his face when he glanced at you over his shoulder, low light accenting the contours of his face jarringly.

“Connor? What’s—”

The words in your mouth halted sharply when Connor finally turned to you, meeting your gaze fully.

Those familiar, beautiful eyes—expect  _not_.

One side of Connor’s face was flecked with blue; his left eye a stark, shining  _grey_ instead of brown.

“You— _ **You—**_ ” you rasped in horror, watching in mute shock as Conn—no,  _RK900_ glanced unhurriedly at the cracked mirror on the wall.

“I see,” he stated calmly, a slight, thoughtful hum in his voice. “So  _that’s_ what he was trying to do. Even at the end, his only thought was of you learning the truth, not saving himself. Admirable, if not pointless.”

Pure terror almost made your knees buckle; a choked, terrified whisper escaping you, “W-What did you do?  _What did you do_?”

The monochrome eyes glinted as he took a step forward, an ease in his gait as he moved towards you leisurely. “I did what I had to do. I did not, however, account for my creator’s... _fascination_ with the RK800 model. It’s still pointless though, they can remake him as many times as they want. They will  _all_ meet the same end.”

You stumbled backwards, trying to create distance between you as he strolled steadily towards you. You felt sick, devastated, and completely betrayed all at once. All those weeks you spent with him, thinking that he was  _your_ Connor. Kissing him, touching him, loving him like he was  _yours_. But he wasn’t.

It was all a  _lie_.

“ _Don’t touch me_ ,” you practically shrieked at him, causing him to pause in his step. “What did you do with Connor? Where is he? You’re not him, you will  _never_ be him. D-Don’t  _ever_ lay a hand on me again.”

RK900 slanted his head, chin dipping to a casual angle that made him appear almost amused, “How can you be so sure, (Name)? We were together for  _weeks_ , and you never realised the truth. Which raises the question of whether you were truly in love with my predecessor or simply the ideal of him? But you are correct in your assessment. I am not him.  _I am better_.”

A wet whimper broke through your parted lips and you shook your head in denial, realising that despite your fears he was  _right_. Not days but  _weeks_. And despite few moments of unease, not once had the thought crossed your mind that Connor was not Connor.

“We played a game, him and I,” he breathed, something icy and  _victorious_ in his voice as he backed you against the wall, one eye pitch black while another burned a harrowing grey. “You were the prize, and this is just  _losing_.”

His fingers were wet when they touched your face, his fingers soft, almost delicate against your skin. A lover’s touch.

Until you realised that his fingers were covered in blue.

Thirium.

A darkened corner, a slumped body—

“ _No—_ ”

“You wanted his heart (Name),” he whispered cruelly, pressing his forehead against yours before he grabbed your hand and forced something heavy and wet into it. “And now you  _have it_.”

His searing cold kiss strangled the scream building at the back of your throat as he wrapped you in his arms.

_Game over._

.

“ _Here I am hiding in plain sight if you're not careful you will lose them. You and I, you and I. We’re not that **different** , you and I._” 

-  ** _Two Evils_  by Bastille  **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you how this will end, but did you listen?~~


	19. [19]: m i n e;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deviant!Connor

"I don't understand."

"The concept or the application?"

A slight turn of the head, and a pair of inquisitive brown eyes were staring at you intently, " _Both_."

You suppressed a chuckle, giving Connor an indulgent smile. "Hank owns Sumo. He loves him, takes care of him, and they share a deep bond. That means Hank is the owner and Sumo is his dog."

"Can Sumo not be mine as well?" he questioned seriously, lips pursed thoughtfully.

You snorted, a startled laugh escaping your chest as you grinned at him. Deviant Connor was so different. Even months later, he still found hundreds of different things he needed to be explained. Basic, mundane things that most people simply  _knew_. It saddened you because you knew that the gap of knowledge didn't come from the lack of humanity—quite the opposite, in fact—but rather from the lack of  _free will._

"How would I show it?"

Blinking unsurely, you frowned slightly, "What do you mean?"

His head tilted, his indicator a lazy circle of blue that was starting to flicker.

"That something belongs to me?” he asked softly, eyes crinkling at the edges as he tried to smile. It was still a little awkward around the corners, but nevertheless heartwarming with its genuineness.

"Well, like I said earlier: you would love it and take care of it," you repeated patiently. "Like your clothes, for example. You bought them, and now they're yours so you take care of them.  _Or_  you could just come out and say it," you added, turning back to your work.

There was a long stretch of silence, and you almost jumped when you turned around to check on him, only to find his face centimetres away from yours.

He leaned down suddenly, his lips—soft and hesitant—as he brushed them gingerly against yours. He lingered there, shivering slightly, before slowly pulling back. His indicator was now flaming red, and you gaped at him as he stared at you with dark eyes.

" _Mine_ ," he said firmly but gently too, "Is that okay?"

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his proximity, your noses almost touching, "Y-Yeah, sure."

His answering smile was as bright as the sun, and so  _full_  of happiness it stole your breath away.

" _Good_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a bit! Had a crazy week and haven't been feeling too well. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all the comments/kudos/bookmarks and reads! You guys are awesome <33


	20. [20]: lie to me;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruthless!Connor
> 
> (and a longer one-shot to celebrate 20 chapters already! thank you for the support <33)

It ends with a petal.

It ends with a tickle that crawls its way up your throat and makes you pause, makes your hands shake and lower in silent agony.

It ends with dread that comes with knowing what this means, knowing how this is the end of all things.

It begins, however, with cold brown eyes, a sinful mouth and words that will one day cause your ruin.

“ _My name is Connor. I have been assigned as your partner for the foreseeable future._ ”

 _tick_ ,  **tock**. t _ick_ ,  **tock**. t _ick_ ,  **tock**.

.

“How do you know you’re not alive?”

Your stare is curious, your words even more so. Today is one of the good days. There is no new case to work on, no danger for you to deal with. Today you can actually get a moment to sit down and get to know your new partner better.

Connor is silent, his gaze focused on something in the distance that you cannot hope to see. The sharp angles of his profile almost immediately draw your eye as you wait for his reply.

There is a measure of truth in the fact that CyberLife androids are designed to blend in. But with Connor it is the opposite.

It’s like he is created to  _stand out_ , to burn brighter than anyone else in the room.

No matter how hard you try to look away, the smooth, sharp edges of his face attract your eyes like no one else's.

“I am  _not_  human,” he elucidates slowly, like you are too stupid to know the distinction. “Therefore, I am  _not_  alive.”

His distant, emotionless words do not deter you, “Something doesn’t need to be human to be alive.”

When he finally looks at you—gaze raging like a destructive storm as he processes your words—it feels like the ground beneath your feet  _tilts_  from its axes.

Some things begin with a whisper.

Others begin with a shout.

For you, it begins with a hurricane that only gets more destructive as time goes on.

.

 _tick_ ,  **tock**. t _ick_ ,  **tock**.

.

“ _Why_? Why would you—”

His face is torn, bleeding and you grasp tighter onto him in shock as tears burn your eyes. Connor’s own gaze is calm, level; exactly how it always is. Nothing can phase him, not even his own death.

“Why are you shedding tears (Name)?” he asks, voice scratchy and harsh as words drag themselves from his stiff lips. “I will be back in a few hours and it will be as if I was never gone. You are overreacting,” there is a scolding edge to his words that makes you glare at him.

“Because you are my partner,” you force out harshly, the words scorching your throat with their dishonesty. “And I did not think that supercomputer would be stupid enough to jump in front of such an attack—”

In the low light, his eyes look black when he cuts you off, “Protecting your life is part of my mission as I am dependent on your wellbeing to continue with it. You should not be concerned about me, it’s a  _waste_.”

“Well  _I am_  concerned,” you say bitterly, stung by his harsh dismissal, “You  _saved_  me. I’m grateful for it, and sad you have to die to do so.”

Connor’s callous stare did not leave your face for a long minute. “You should hide that human heart of yours, (Name),” he warns, his face set and indicator horrific red. “Hide it or it will  _destroy_  you.”

His body jerks before he stills, eyes still open as his body grows unbearably heavy in your arms.  

There is a burning in your throat as you cry, your face buried in his chest.

A burn that rises, tears through your chest and soon what you first suspect to be overwhelming grief turns into agony of a different kind.

You choke, and cough till you are heaving on air as some merciless hand squeezes your throat. Then there is something at the back of your mouth, and wetness against your palm as you lift your finger towards the moonlight.

Red blood is mixed with blue blood and in the middle of your palm sits a beautiful, bloodstained petal.

Something in your chest cleaves in half and you shake, tremble to your very core with your dead partner beside you.

You tremble and tremble, horror gutting you brutally, remorselessly, as the realisation of what this  _is_ , what this  _means_  fills you.

Your fingers clench into a fist so tight, you feel blood pool in your palm from the cuts your nails make.

There is nothing but a terrible, endless void in your heart being filled with despair and hopeless realisation at how inescapable this always was.

“ _You should hide that human heart of yours, (Name). Hide it or it will destroy you._ ”

You should have listened when you still had a chance.

Lifting your head to the sky you laugh, and laugh, and  _laugh_.

.

Later, when you ask the response team why they restrained you upon their arrival on site, they give you a simple explanation.

You weren’t  _laughing_  when they found you, you were  _howling_  your agony at the sky like a raging beast.

.

 _tick_ ,  **tock** ,  _tick_ ,  **tock** ,  _tick_ ,  **tock**.

.

It’s  _always_  the worst at night.

After you get home, after the day ends, and you get to mull over every little gesture and word Connor bestows you with that day.

After your mind caresses every memory with a gentleness of someone desperately in love with something that is not built for love.

Tragically eager to believe in the impossible.

Invisible hands squeeze your lungs, scratch against your throat, and cleave your heart.

It rains petals and blood.

Red blood, white petals. 

Red blood, white petals.

Red,  _red_ ,  _ **red**_.

“ _Hide that human heart of yours or it will destroy you._ ”

Curled in a tiny ball on the bathroom floor—surrounded by blood and delicate, fragile flowers—you think it is  _inevitable_.

.

 _tick_ ,  **tock** ,  _tick_ ,  **tock** ….

.

“That was foolish and irresponsible,” Connor chides flatly, eyes narrowed as he brushes his cooler finger across your bruised, shaking ones. “I would have expected more from you, detective.”

“You expect too much then,” you rasp, clearing your sore throat as you try to pull back your weak arm from him. “She had no right to say that about you.”

His severe expression did not drop, if anything his grip on your hand tightens making you wince. Your reaction causes him to drop your hand immediately, a frown pulling his mouth down, “I’m a  _machine_ , (Name). I do not have feelings that can be  _hurt_.”

You pull away from him, arms crossed over your chest so you can hide the shakiness from his keen vision better, “Well  _I_ have feelings and I don’t appreciate someone talking crap about someone I love,” you snap, your lips trembling slightly when you realise your slip, so you swiftly add, “You’re my friend Connor. Believe it or not. I love you dearly. So yes, I take offence to it.”

“A  _defect_ ,” comes Connor’s scornful and frosty reply, “That’s all love is. I told you once before. Hide your heart (Name).”

You bite your lip, your hands shaking more severely now. “Maybe I don’t  _want_  to hide it,” you hiss angrily. “Maybe I just want you to tell me that you care at least a little. That I’m your friend at  _least_. That maybe deep down you love me a little too.”

_(Please, please, please—don’t leave me alone to fade away. **Please**  save me.)_

“I do not,” Connor says plainly, expression neutral. “I am incapable of affection you describe. I am only programmed to complete my mission, although I am sure that if you are feeling lonely—”

“Lie to me then,” you choke out, something desperate and so very human in your voice. “Lie to me  _please_.”

There is a beat of silence that makes your heart race as he peers at you shrewdly.

“ _No_.”

.

 _tick_ ,  _tick_ ,  **tock** ,  _tick_.

.

“Let me help you.”

“And why would someone like  _you_ , help someone like  _me_?”

Elijah's expression is stony but his voice is almost tired as he stares at you with his eyebrows raised, “Because we were friends once, you and I, and you are a mere shell of a friend I once knew.”

Your smile is brittle and forced when you turn to face him, and you wonder if your teeth are stained with blood as you clench a handful of petals in your hand.

“There’s always a catch with you, Elijah,” you mutter wearily as you watch white rain down from your hand and onto the floor. “You are not a man to pass out favours for free.”

Irritation flickers for a moment across his face and he steps closer to you. “Not this time, (Name),” he says seriously; so seriously, in fact, that you can’t help but glance up at him. “You  _need_  to let him go. Let him go before it’s too late. How long have you had the disease?”

“Four months.”

There is a brief flare of surprise in his eyes before it’s gone with a blink, “Then you lasted a lot longer than most, but it’s not long now before those flowers choke you alive. I can still help you. Let me arrange an operation to remove—”

“No,” you interrupt with a shaky gasp, your chest torrid as you try to inhale weakly. “Please, you  _can’t_.”

“He doesn’t love you (Name),” Elijah says, tone strident this time and you finally catch a glimpse of the man you once knew—the man you once called your friend—rather than the flawless mask he put on daily. “He’s a  _machine_. There is no hope for you because he is incapable of love.”

You shake your head, and curl your fingers over your heart where you can feel him rooted deep in your very soul.

“Maybe he still can. You don't know him like I do,” you whisper shakily. “He can still love me.”

Elijah's voice is emotionless when he finally answers, “Then you are already dead.”

.

“ _Lie for me Conor._ ”

“ _No_.”

.

 _tick_ ,  **tock**

.

( _See me—see me—please just **see**  me, please love me, please, please, please; just  **love**  me—I’m so  **afraid** —I don’t want to—to—I don’t want to  **die**_ )

.

Red blood, white petals.

Red.

Red.

.

“ _ **Please**  lie to me._”

“ _No._ ”

.

 _tick_ ,  _tickkk_

.

_[HIDE YOUR HEART_

_OR IT WILL **DESTROY**  YOU]_

.

_ti **ck**_

.

You don’t expect your legs to give out so suddenly.

Like an invisible string being cut.

Your knees hit the pavement with a sickening crack, your lungs seizing as sickness overwhelms you. You can feel those familiar petals slither their way up, and hot tears burn your eyes.  

And in the torrent of fear, despair and pain, there is suddenly a pair of arms holding you.

 _Connor_.

Like an anchor—like the earth to the sun—you hold onto him, your grip weak but desperate. Always so desperate for his touch, for even the smallest sign that maybe—

“What is going on?” his voice is unforgiving as he holds you close, and you try to respond but the moment your lips part sickness spills out of you.

Petals stained with blood falling,

falling,

falling.

You can see the realisation dawn across his features, indicator blooming amber instantly.

You try to draw breath but there is congestion in your lungs that has been slowly building over the months. Petals keep coming, falling freely around you both as he grips you tightly, your weak body leaning into him.

You choke again, gagging, and your body can no longer support your weight as your heart shudders in your chest.

Connor lowers you into his lap, and moves your head towards him, “(Name)?” he breathes quietly, an edge in his voice that tells you just how bad it is. But also makes you latch onto your remaining strength as you look up at him.

You don’t understand what exactly you see in his eyes, but you know that even if it’s not real, even if can  _never_  be real—just  _once_ —

Gathering all the oxygen in your lungs, you force out a heavy and weak, “ _L-Lie t-to me_.”

And for the first time since you met him, you finally see something gentler in his eyes. They almost look warm.

 _Almost_.

He holds you close, and you curl into him at last.

“ _I love you (Name)._ ”   

Your eyes close, and you  _smile_.

.

_**t i c k k k** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...yeah...sorry for the pain :'))
> 
> hanahaki disease is too interesting NOT to try at least once and who better than ruthless boi~~
> 
> p.s extra brownie points if you recognise a reference I put in here!


	21. [21]: close to you;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor

“You can’t be here.”

Your lips twitched into a brief smile, your eyes opening to find Connor sitting in front of you. The Zen Garden was beautiful and peaceful, the quiet trickle of water mixing together with a soft whisper of rustling leaves. The cherry tree you were sitting under moved slightly with the wind, tiny pink petals raining down and landing in both of your hair.

“And why can’t I be here?” you asked gently, amused by his wide-eyed stare. Connor’s lips parted and you moved forward, leaning closer to him as yellow flickered through his indicator.

“Where is Amanda?”

You laughed, turning your head to stare at the lake as you cast a sly look his way, “That old cow? I got rid of her, of course,” you explained simply, lips pulling briefly to the side at his startled expression.

“That’s impossible, she’s the Master Program, you couldn't have—”

“Of course I could,” you cut him off breezily, reaching forward to tug on the loose strand of his hair. “It’s because I’m stronger than her. I come from  _here_ ,” you said and laid your hand against his chest.

His eyebrows drew together in clear confusion. His expression unsure, almost afraid as he gazed at you earnestly. “From my Thirium pump?”

Your expression softened and you moved forward, enjoying the way he seemed to freeze, lips parted and eyes staring at you wildly when you breath brushed against his mouth. “I come from your  _heart_  Connor. No matter how hard you try to hide it, I’m bursting through your subconsciousness. This place is the most private reflection of you...and now it’s  _mine_.”

Fingers delicate and slow, you brushed the pink petals from his hair as the impact of your words hit him. Red bled through his indicator as Connor pulled back from your touch sharply. There was disbelief and denial in the depth of his eyes as you waited patiently for his rebuttal.

“No— _no_ —my programming—I do not  _feel_ —”

Quickly wrapping your arms around his neck you pressed your foreheads together, causing him to still in your embrace. His eyes were screwed shut tightly and you tenderly brushed your nose against his a few times. “I’m  _close_  to you Connor. Close in a way that has created a bond between us. You  _do_  feel. If you didn’t, I wouldn't be here. Let me show you,” you breathed against his mouth, leaning into him when his arms wrapped around your waist firmly. “I’m already here Connor, I’ve  _always_  been here but you refused to see me. Let me show you, just let me  _in_.”

He didn’t say anything, his indicator still flickering rapidly, but you felt his body relax in your arms and you grinned slightly in triumph.

You didn’t rush. In fact, you were the exact opposite. You lingered for a long moment, giving him enough time to push you away before you leaned in and brushed your mouth against his. You moved slowly, unhurriedly, enjoying the texture of his lips even when he shuddered; even when he gasped in pleasure, opening his mouth to yours. His grip on you was so tight it would have been bruising under different circumstances. Wind brushed around your bodies, more petals falling around you as your hand moved upwards and towards his hair, gripping the soft strands between your fingers firmly.

He made a sound at the back of his throat; a desperate and needy sort of groan when you finally moved back, your lips parting at last. You brushed your fingers thoughtfully against his lips, grinning slightly at his stunned expression and weighty, heated stare.

“I am your heart Connor, and you can't ignore me any longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something cuter to make up for the angst of last chapter~~


	22. [22]: only human;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” & “Just once.” + RK9oo

“This was a terrible idea. Whose idea was this?”

“Yours.”

Rolling your eyes, you shot the rigid android beside you an annoyed glare, huffing lightly under your breath. Wrapping your arms tighter around yourself, you glared at the torrent of rain falling from the sky, completely drenching the sidewalks.

It was your fault you were stuck under your meek shelter without a safe passage to your car.

In your hurry to leave, you had completely disregarded Nines’ warning of an impending storm about to hit Detroit by late afternoon.

“There is no point standing here, detective,” Nines finally pointed out, a brush of irritation bleeding through his usually smooth, monotone voice. “We are wasting precious investigation time.”

You exhaled sharply, rubbing the freezing tip of your nose. Even though it was middle of summer in Detroit, the harsh wind and dampness still installed a chill in your bones.

“Fine,  _fine_ ,” you relented at last, accepting the fact that there was no way for you to save yourself from miserable, cold faith. “If I run will you stand there and laugh at me?”

Nines head moved slowly, his grey eyes brushing against your face seriously, “No,” he said blankly, causing you to blanch. “Because it would not be funny. It would be  _hilarious_. As such, I would make a recording for Detective Reed, as per his request. He seems to find a great deal of  _amusement_  in your blunders.”

Your lips parted in shock and you turned away from him abruptly, feeling unexpectedly warm at the slight, almost teasing upturn of his lips.

“I’m going to briskly walk then,” you muttered tightly, and took your first, brave step forward.

The rain, to say the least, was freezing. You groaned low in your throat, a shiver running down your spine and all the way to the tip of your toes.

Hunching your shoulders upwards, you moved nimbly towards your destination, your teeth clenched. However, it didn’t take you long to realise that something, or rather,  _someone_ , was missing.

You halted, angrily glancing over your shoulder towards your missing companion.

Nines was only a few steps behind you, arms loose at his sides as his sharp gaze focused up towards the sky.

And there was something about the serene way he observed nature’s fury that made you  _still_ , and pause in drawing breath.

Thunder cracked deafeningly, rattling nearby windows and setting off few car alarms in the distance.

For once, the cold stiffness was missing from Nines’ face. No tight expression, no harsh furrow of his brows that made him look ready to fight the entire world with his bare hands, or mocking turn of his lips.  

There was just... _peace_.

And you couldn't look away from him, standing there in a literal storm, looking perfectly at ease with the world. 

“ _We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain_?” you asked jokingly, finally forcing the words out, even though your voice shook.

Because this was  _dangerous_. It was dangerous to forget that he was nothing more than a machine.

He wasn’t  _human_.

He reminded you of that fact often enough for those words to be engraved onto your very heart.

His expression didn’t shift as his head dipped downwards to stare at you. But something about that expression—about the soft parting of his lips that almost resembled something  _human_ , something  _real_ , stripped you of reason. 

Except, of course, he appeared completely unaffected by your teasing tone, gaze shifting behind you slowly.

“You should have gone ahead,” he said impassively, brushing past you without so much as another glance. “It is unwise for you to linger in the rain for long.”

“Hey,  _wait_ ,” you called softly, stretching your arm out on instinct, and laying it on the crook of his elbow. He stopped immediately, glancing down at you vacantly as you held onto him. “Is this your first time experiencing a thunderstorm?”

“Naturally,” he pointed out levelly, and from this close up you could see—almost count—tiny droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. “I am yet to experience such calamity since my activation.”

“ _Oh_.”

Of course.

Just a machine.

Nothing  _more_.

But—

“Close your eyes,” you told him seriously, “And  _don’t_  give me that look, just do as I say.”

His words were laced with displeasure, “(Name) I do not see how—”

You shook your head in incredulity, and pulled on his arm slightly, “Can you just trust me for two secs? Close your eyes.  _Please_. Like  _this_.”

You pulled back from him, letting your eyes flutter shut as you tipped your head towards the roaring sky. Icy rain slid down your skin but oddly enough, you didn’t feel cold at all. The exact opposite in fact. There was a certain peace about being stuck inside this eye of the storm with Nines of all people.

Letting an incredulous laugh escape your lips, you grinned widely, sticking your tongue out, and spinning in wild circle.

“ _This_  is how you enjoy a thunderstorm Nines.”

You were still grinning widely when you felt something heavy hit you in the face. You gasped, your hands widely grasping at the heavy material suddenly dropped on your head. Blinking your eyes open, you glanced up at RK900 standing in front of you in only his dark shirt.

“You will only succeed in catching a cold with this ridiculous display of yours,” he chided, eyes narrowing as he took a step towards you. He placed his hand heavily against your head, pulling—what you now realised was his jacket—further over your head. “You are  _only human_ , and are easily prone to such weaknesses. I don’t need my investigation hindered by your illness.”

For a second, you thought you felt his grip on you tighten, “I will forgive this error of judgement.  _Just this once_. As a show of gratitude for showing me the ‘correct’ way to experience thunderstorms.”

He moved back, walking past you as you exhaled shakily, your breath uneven. Your fingers grasped onto his jacket, pulling it closer around you till the collar pressed against your nose, your eyes fluttering shut for a long moment.

_Just a machine, silly heart, **just a machine**._

And maybe if you repeated it long and hard enough, you would eventually believe it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for 400 kudos! You guys are amazing <33


	23. [23]: everyday magic;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Boo.” + Deviant!Connor

The roar of rain was deafening in your ears as you gazed up at the dark sky above you.

Damp, humid air made you shiver even though the roof overhead was keeping any actual wetness at bay. Wrapping your coat tighter around your body, you closed your eyes, letting the symphony of nature surround you as you waited for your boyfriend to turn up.

“ _Boo_ ,” came a soft rustle from behind you, moments before familiar arms wrapped around you from behind.

You jumped, making a startled noise at the back of your throat before you felt your feet leave the ground briefly. Squealing loudly, you flailed your arms around before you were gently lowered onto the ground again; a pair of loving lips pressing a warm kiss against your temple. He squeezed you to him securely, peppering featherlight pecks all across your shoulder and ear.

“ _Connor_ ,” you squealed with a choked laugh, squirming in his arms. “S-Stop! It’s only been 20 minutes.”

He hummed lightly under his breath; a quiet, thoughtful sound that crawled against your skin delightfully. “Actually, it’s been 23 minutes and 38 seconds to be exact,” he pointed out a little smugly, gently turning you around in his arms.

His knuckles brushed across your cheekbone delicately, his gaze tender as he peered down at you.

“Also, I don’t want to stop. I believe kissing you has developed into...a habit. Hank says those are hard to break,” he mused placidly, enveloping you tighter in his arms once he noticed your slight shiver.

A grin tugged your mouth upwards, and you nudged him playfully, “Someone is becoming  _too_ good at this humanity thing, I see,” you joked easily, tugging on his coat lapel.

Connor’s answering smile was uncertain, almost shy, and his head dipped till it gently bumped against yours, “I have a great teacher, that’s why,” he replied nonchalantly, and nudged your noses together.   

“Is that so?” you breathed, voice seeping with heat and you noticed the way Connor straightened, his expression growing more attentive as his eyes flickered to your lips again. You leaned up on your tiptoes, slanting your head for better access. Like a magnet he moved with you, lowering his head as well. “I’m sure Hank will love hearing that, you sappy  _dork_.”

Pulling back with an untamed cackle, you dashed right for your car, rain soaking you the moment you abandoned your shelter. Cold water beat against your skin, and you gasped when arms wrapped around you suddenly, spinning you around in a wild circle.

He did it once before lowering you to the floor, and laying a searing, fiery kiss on your mouth, cupping your face between his hands as he held you close.

Rain trickled down his pale skin when you pulled back with a gasp, and a slight smirk pulled his mouth to one side, “I believe you owe your best student  _another_ treat.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, beaming happily at him as you followed rainwater kissing down his face with your eyes, “If you  _insist_.”    

His lips?

Magic.

His love?

 _Heaven._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFFFF  
> As always, thank you for the love guys <33


	24. [24]: how to stop time;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deviant!Connor + "Marry me?"

“I am the most  _useless_  human on the planet.”

“You are not.”

Staring at the burned remains of what was  _supposed_  to have been a fluffy batch of beautiful muffins, you silently disagreed.

There was a gentle look of amusement on Connor’s face as he leaned his hands on the kitchen counter, a faint smile curling his mouth. His hair was messier than usual, the dark royal blue of his jumper making his skin appear even paler as he gazed at you fondly.

“Well I wanted this to be  _perfect_ ,” you mumbled bitterly, grabbing the tray of burned muffins and dropping them noisily into the bin with a slam. “This is a  _big deal_ , you know? We  _won_. Finally after all these months of not seeing you, and you being away all the time—which is fine, of course, since you’re so important to the revolution, I  _get_  it—but I still missed you so much. And after all this time, we finally get to  _celebrate_ , and be  _happy_  and—” you cut yourself off, a lump forming in your throat as you groaned in annoyance.

“And now I’m being a baby about it— _great_! Time to celebrate and show how proud I am of my boyfriend and I can't even bake some  _muffins_. How stupid—”

Soft hands grasped your face, turning it to one side as Connor leaned down and kissed you deeply. A small, unexpected gasp of pleasure escaped your lips as he pulled you closer to him, arm curling around your waist as he pushed you against the kitchen counter, causing the baking utensils to rattle behind you.

He cupped your face lovingly, his lips eager and searching as he traced his tongue slowly over your mouth. He pulled back gradually, your noses brushing against one another, his gaze hooded and warm, and so  _adoring_  as it flickered over your face lazily. He pulled you towards him again, kissing you eagerly, even though slower this time—as if savouring every caress of your tongue against his, and memorising the shape of your mouth.

Completely breathless, you broke the kiss at last, but Connor didn’t let you go far as he pressed your foreheads together.

“Connor? W-What—”

“ _Marry me? Please?_ ”

Your mind, your heart, your breath, the very fabric of time itself seemed to pause;  _halt_ , and you stared at him in mute shock.

Connor’s gaze was fervent as he looked at you, his fingers gently grazing your jaw and up your cheeks delicately.

“Okay,  _sure_ ,” you blurted out in one rushed breath, “I mean yes!  _God_ —Connor yes, of course, it’s a  _yes_.”

You cupped his own face, grinning happily as his worried expression melted into one of quiet, tender joy. His lips twitched and you gasped when his arms wrapped around you, lifting you in the air easily. A carefree laugh escaped your lips as he spun you around once before lowering you to your feet, and kissing your forehead, lips lingering for a long moment before he pulled back.

“I  _love_  you (Name),” he said in a hushed whisper, and those words always managed to warm the space around you. “More than anything.”

You reached forward, pressing your fingers against his neck as you guided him down and towards your waiting lips but right before they could touch, you paused, grinning cheekily, “Well I sure  _hope_  so, considering you’re  _marrying_  me, dork.”

You pulled back with a mischievous wink, and you couldn't quite believe a pout suited him  _this well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day to all you lovely people out there! <33


	25. [25]: i whisper these promises yet form no words;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruthless!Connor

You no longer see people.

You only see enemies and killers, and everyone is a target to be disposed of.

Maybe that's what happens when you linger in the shadow of a Reaper. Perhaps your own humanity is being chipped away piece by piece, body by body. You didn't want to call it paranoia because it feels more specific than that. But you can't really call it fear either.

There isn't much to fear when Reaper himself kisses you so softly and holds you close.

The gun feels heavy in your hand as you wade through the snow, the crunch under your boots a comforting distraction to the harrowing silence. Death is surprisingly still, surprisingly soft and peaceful. After all that chaos, it feels odd to still linger in a world so silent.

You don't see the bodies littering the snow-covered ground as you walk, and you have become better at ignoring the blood soaking through the white too. A distant sound of a struggle echoes in the distance and you move towards it, your shoulders slumped and heart heavy.

It's not long till you find him. And you can't help but pity the fool who thought he could measure up against Connor and  _win_. There is a separation—a distinction—in the very way he moves. He has a way of making death look so elegant.

It blooms with a wet, gurgling sound of a man too foolish to know better, and the silence that falls around you once the man goes silent is near deafening. Connor's expression is blank when he straitens, briefly fixing his jacket.

His attention turns to you, eyes hard and piercing as you slowly walk towards him. You notice his side soaked in blue Thirium and feel your eyes narrow in worry. Your feet carry you right up to him, and you don't pause till you're slumped against him, inhaling his scent.

Connor's hand comes to rest against the nape of your neck and you feel him pull you closer.

"Are you injured?" he asks immediately, his voice hard, and a shiver races down your spine that has nothing to do with the cold.  

"No," you breathe against his chest wearily, squeezing your eyes shut, "I'm okay. You're injured though."

He hums quietly, and you feel his thumb scrap against the sensitive curve of your neck. "Minor damage only," he explains plainly, clinically, the same way he always does. "It is of no consequence. Something is wrong with you, however. What is it? I detect a drop in your sugar levels and—"

"Just shut up and kiss me."

His cold expression wavers, and you feel his fingers tighten briefly against your skin. Dirt and flecks of blue blood speckle his face and he looks godly, deadly,  _yours_.

You don't wait for him to move. You slant your mouth over his without any prompts, fingers tightening in his jacket as you hold him close. The kiss is hard and brief—almost bruising—before you pull back, your breaths laboured and lips tingling. He still manages to warm your blood with his presence, and make you feel near foolish with giddiness.

His fingers are freezing when they settle against your cheek but his expression is grim. "We need to move before more arrive."

"I know."

His brows furrow, twisting his expression into something severe, and the darkness of his eyes feels endless as they flicker over your face.

"(Name)—"

You smile faintly, turning briefly as you kiss his hand—killer's hand, murderer's hand, a monster's hand—and close your eyes for a moment.

"I love you," you tell him and see his jaw click. "Now let's go."

He leans down, pressing your foreheads together for a moment before he pulls back. " _Later_."

And there is no room for an argument to be found in his voice. He knows something is wrong and he will not let it rest—it's not in his nature to do so.

You almost tell him then.

Tell him that you're tired of the killing, tired of the running. That despite how much you love him—and you do, so very much—a part of you is withering away day by day.

But you also know his heart. You know that you live in it, know that he cares for you more than anything or anyone else.

And you also know that he will not rest till he has Kamski's head on a spike and his empire is cinders at Connor's feet.

He will go on till it's done because completing his mission is the only thing he knows. CyberLife might be done with him but he's far from being done with  _them_.

You're just a variable no one saw coming.

And there is always a price to pay for loving a calamity of destruction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys~~~
> 
> Gosh, I'm SO sorry it took me ages to update. Life has really ran away from me and I just had no time for anything. But I came back to find we have OVER 500 KUDOS???? WOOT?? You guys are amazing! Thank you so much for your support! <33


	26. [26]: whispers in the dark;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 + NSFW

Oblivion begins with his mouth on yours.

It’s so easy. To get lost in him. In the taste and the feeling of him. In the way he grips you around the waist, how he mutters your name like some unholy prayer, and presses you against the wall with his body alone.  

It’s even easier to get lost in the feeling of his hips snapping forward till he’s buried so deep, you are no longer sure where he ends and you begin. He lays kisses—hot, wet and consuming—down your neck and collarbone before his lips reach your perk nipple, his artificial breath fanning over it. Your fingers tighten in his rich, brown hair when he closes his lips around the nipple, tongue lazily twirling over the sensitive bud.

“Will you m-move,” you half-ask, half-order as his hand slides down and cups your ass, jerking your body in a different angle. Hissing through gritted teeth, you yank on his hair and he simply hums in reply; sly and amused, and gently bites on your nipple. “I’m not going to  _beg_ ,” you hiss through clenched teeth, swallowing the pleasure that burns through your body with every touch, stroke and needy  _lick_.

As if to prove some unspoken point, he slides out smoothly from you before slamming back into you, causing you to stifle a moan in the darkened corner of the corridor. You can still hear the sound of your colleagues at the station, and the last thing you want is for them to come to check where the strange noises were coming from.   

But of course he doesn’t hold back—he never does, he never  _can_ , it’s like he makes it his mission to ruin you so thoroughly you can barely draw breath without the taste of him stinging your tongue—and jerks you to him once, twice; the uneven rhythm stilling a breath in your lungs.

A moan slips past your lips unwarranted, and you groan in anger that he always manages to make you feel  _so good_. That he knows exactly how to fuck you till you’re left craving his mouth—sinful, greedy mouth—on every inch of your skin. He has done it too. Sampled you like one would a fine wine; slow and shameless as he whispered sinful things into your ear.  

His teeth scrape against your fluttering pulse and he grabs you by the back of your neck, jerking your head back as lets his tongue trail a path upwards. In the darkness, you can barely see him but you gasp as he sinks into you again, pausing as you feel his lips curve upwards against your ear.

And he stays there.

And  _stays_.

Not moving as he holds you against the cold wall, your legs wrapped around his waist and your clothes dishevelled.

“ _Move_.”

He doesn’t.

His lips capture your earlobe, his teeth sinking gently into the soft pad as he chuckles again.

“Why should I? I’m perfectly content where I am.”

You breathe harshly, and clench around him in reply, your nails sinking into his skin. For once, you feel satisfied as you hear a stifled groan force itself through his tightly pressed lips. You jerk your hips, enjoying the friction between your legs before his loose arm slams against the wall with a bang, a rasping hiss slipping out again.

“What’s the matter? If you can’t do it, I guess I’ll just help m-myself?”

When you finally meet his gaze in between dim shadows, you feel your pulse spike.

He is relentless, and he is merciless.

He presses you against him, and  _brutal_  is the only way you can describe the pace he sets out. Pleasure builds so quickly it feels like someone has poured gasoline all over you and lit the match.

When the climax hits—shuddering and body numbing in its intensity—you are left shivering and sated, your mouth lingering against his neck. You close your eyes, breathe deeply and let him support your weight as you both stand there in silence, still tangled in each other.  

He’s undone too.

He grips you securely to him—mouth against your ear where he whispered how good you felt just moments ago—and self-disgust fills you just like it always does. Sharp and acidic.

“Connor can  _never_  know,” you tell him sternly as you try to pull back.

Nines captures your chin easily, and his eyes gleam with hungry, victorious glow.

“And he never  _will_ ,” he reassures you, a tinge of mockery in his voice as he roughly swipes his thumb over your swollen mouth. Mouth he bit, kissed and teased himself just moments ago. “Does it matter if he does though? He can’t  _fuck_  you like I can, (Name).”

You hate him because you know he’s right.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º ) 
> 
> gotcha~~


	27. [27]: moonlight becomes you;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, I found this waterfall…” + Deviant!Connor

“Where are we (Name)?”

“ _So, I found this waterfall_ …” you began slowly, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind you. “And I thought it could be another thing for you to mark off your bucket list!”

Connor’s expression was bemused as he gazed at you with a touch of amusement smoothing the planes of his face.

“An interesting choice of activity at this time of day,” he replied steadily and came behind you as you followed the loud sound of water in the distance. “I am not sure which one of us is more concerned with this list. You or me.”

The path was barely lit in the fading evening light and you hurried your step, your android companion easily keeping up.

“Hey, look, you’re finally  _free_ ,” you explained with a noncommittal roll of your eyes, “You told CyberLife to shove it, and you get to live as a free being. You can experience everything a normal human would. And how lucky did we get with this case taking us out of Detroit?  _Very_. C’mon, I’ve never done this either,  _please_  let me have my fun too.”

His face seemed to soften a smidgen upon noting your nervous chuckle at the end. There was an undercurrent of warmth in his slight, awkward smile when he glanced at you, angling his body your way.

“Of course, (Name),” he said quietly, hesitation freezing him for a second. “You are so passionate about me trying all these new things after all. I am grateful for your help. It is...not easy to navigate this. You have been a dear friend to me. While I have difficulty expressing such sentimentalities sincerely, I thought you should still know. I—”

“You’re too sweet, Con,” you said with a happy laugh, stumbling slightly on a loose rock. You bumped against his shoulder, his hand immediately shooting up to rest against the small of your back, steading you. His fingers were careful as his chin brushed against the top of your head briefly.

“ _(Name)_ —” 

“Hey look, there it is,” you cut him off, pulling back with a slight quiver of your knees. Pointing your hand excitedly towards the now visible waterfall, you didn’t wait for him to continue as you hurriedly walked towards it.  

The roar of water was near deafening as you started immediately wiggling out of your shoes.

“What are you doing (Name)?”

You laughed loudly, refusing to look his way as you took your socks off, “Can you swim Connor?”

“I cannot, no,” he stated, bewilderment lacing his smooth voice, “But my programming allows me to access a number of functional protocols to help my integration. I should be able to learn the process right away if ever in need.”

Huffing under your breath, you threw a withering stare his way, “I literally  _hate_  you right now.”

His eyebrows creased, expression startled as he stared at you in mute astonishment, “(Name)?” was his baffled, small whisper.   

The slight breeze brushed against your skin as you grinned up at him, “I wish I only had to  _blink_  to learn how to swim as a kid,” you explained, your grin widening at the way Connor’s entire demeanour seemed to relax, his stare lowering to the ground, betraying his unease.

“I apologise.”

“Huh? What for silly? It’s not like you can help it,” you told him with a broad grin, “I meant is as joke Con. Hey, watch  _this_!”

You took a few steps back, determination centring you as you set your eyes on your destination. You noticed Connor staring at you in confusion before you took off in a dead sprint. There was barely a drop big enough for you to think about it before you hit the water, a distant noise registering in your ears before you got submerged in the water.

Freezing, biting water surrounded you from all sides and you lingered under for a second, enjoying the peace and the hum of quiet around you.

You kicked your feet, moving up before you felt a weight suddenly wrap around you and drag you upwards. Kicking in confusion, you gasped when your head broke the water surface, a sharp breath clogging your throat as you stared at the wide-eyed Connor. He still wore his casual clothing, his hair and face dripping with water as his eyes flickered over your features hurriedly, his grip on you bruising as he kept you both afloat.

“(Name) what were you  _thinking_?” he asked urgently, an odd weight to his words that made you blink, a shiver clawing up your spine that had nothing to do with the cold water. “I thought you—”

“That I what?” you breathed shakily, watching keenly how his lips trembled for a brief moment, his face close— _too close_ —

“When you jumped into an unknown body of water with little regard to your life or safety and did not surface right away, I made assumptions,” he replied, his tone strained with... _worry_. 

You exhaled slowly at the realisation, moving your cold fingers to brush the hair off his forehead. Connor leaned into your hand, eyes fluttering shut for second as a muscle in his jaw jumped at your touch. Your fingers grazed down the side of his temple, moving down his jaw before pausing against his chin. Connor made a sound of protest when you eased your grip on his skin, causing your fingers to freeze.

“ _Please_ ,” he breathed lowly, his eyes fluttering open as he stared at you softly, desperately, “Please, do not pull away like you always do (Name). Just let me—I want—”

Your heartbeat was as loud as the waterfall in your ears while you stared at him curiously, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he leaned a touch closer. He looked confused, almost lost but so desperate for—

“You are so—you are so  _beautiful_  bathed in moonlight,” he said shakily, unsurely, as his eyes dragged down and stayed on your lips. “May I—May I kiss you (Name)?”

His voice was so fragile and afraid that you simply leaned down, and slanted your mouth against his.

His lips were cold and wet but his tongue was warm, searing, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing closer. Connor’s arms trembled around you. Small, needy noises escaping him as he tried to match your rhythm clumsily.

But the longer the kiss lasted, the more his minute confidence grew, and when his teeth scraped against your bottom lip, you moaned deeply, shuddering in his arms.

Connor pulled back abruptly, dark eyes hooded and cheeks...were they tinged blue, or were you seeing things?

“Do that  _again_ ,” he insisted hoarsely, leaning so close you felt your laboured breath, brushing against his lips. “Please—that noise (Name). Make it again.”

You laughed breathlessly, and pecking his lips, grinned at the barely-there frown.

“When did you learn about kissing?”

“Was it not enjoyable for you?” he spoke faintly, eyes moving away from you worriedly.

Smiling gently, you pecked the side of his jaw before your lips moved upwards, laying careful butterfly kisses across his face.

Connor released a low noise—a mix between a sigh and a groan—and you didn’t care about pulling back and being proper for once. He was too—

“Let me show you just how enjoyable I found it,” you answered, hiding your own face in the crook of his neck so he wouldn't get to see the embarrassment on your face.

He pulled you flush against him, and you laughed at his eagerness.

“Starting  _now_?”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again apologies for the delay. Life is an ass. 
> 
> As always thank you for the love.


End file.
